


The Ball’s In Your Court

by elysianaurora



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Athlete/Doctor, Basketball AU, Bipolar Disorder, Doctor AU, Doctor/Patient, Ethical Dilemmas, Eventual Smut, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2020-09-19 04:22:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 76,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20325037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysianaurora/pseuds/elysianaurora
Summary: After struggling on the South Side for most of his life Ian had pushed himself to make a career in professional basketball quickly becoming one of the best even if it meant he had to stay closeted. After visiting the clinic for his check up Ian begins to develop a crush on the doctor who walked into the wrong exam room. After things not going as planned he is forced to seek help from the best sports doctor in Chicago who just so happens to be the doctor on whom Ian’s crushing.  When a very out and proud Dr Mickey Milkovich, being the best in his field gets hired by the basketball player he’s secretly had a crush on for years, he is faced with both a moral and ethical dilemma while being afraid he’ll have to go back into the closet for the sake of the man he’s falling for.





	1. Doctor, I Think You Have The Wrong Room

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working in this idea for a really long time now. Thank you Sarah for helping me out the idea for the first chapter together. I don’t know how long this will be and I really don’t know how you all will receive it but I do hope it’s all positive. 
> 
> I’ve had some kind of writers block when it comes to this story so I’m hoping by actually starting to post that you can give me some motivation and help by giving suggestions. Anyways i don’t think this AU has been done before but if anything similar has I’m sorry I’m not intending to copy anyone.
> 
> That being said here is the first chapter. This is a brief meeting between the two men and I know it barely touches base on anything but I hope you all like it nonetheless and choose to support it ♥️♥️

Growing up on the south side of Chicago wasn’t easy, but growing out of it was seeming to be just as difficult. This was a thought Ian could feel ricocheting around in his mind while he stared down menacingly at the new  _ People _ magazine sporting the headline: “ _ Who’s the New Hottie on Ian Gallagher’s Arm? _ ” Rolling his eyes at the cheap shot of a story, he threw the magazine to the other side of the limo’s backseat. “It doesn’t read what you want it to?” Ian looked up to his manager who sat across from him in the spacious limousine wearing his eyebrows high in his hairline even though his eyes remained trained on the screen of his phone.

“No, it says exactly what I want it to.” Ian sarcastically answered, rolling his eyes.

“Ian, we’ve been over this. Do we need to go over it again?” Jensen asked, glancing up for the first time since he’d gotten into the vehicle that morning and then back at the partition to ensure the driver couldn’t hear. “I thought you agreed on our arrangement?”

Sighing, Ian ran his freckled hand over his face. It had been six years since he had started playing professional basketball and the struggle of not being able to be proud of his sexuality was starting to take a serious toll on his mind. There was once a time where he had no choice but to stay closeted for the sake of survival and when he left southside, he thought he left that behind him. But he was so terribly wrong being thrusted into a world where you were rated on the masculinity scale based on the number of girls you slept with. Now Ian felt even more stifled than he did growing up on the mean streets of the Southside. Jensen had no clue that Ian would rather stick it into men rather than women, however he made an agreement that Ian couldn’t get too emotionally invested until he hit his eight-year mark in the sport. So, a line of girls would be invited to escort Ian to dinners, parties, award ceremonies and bigger events. Ian hated it all but he knew the price he’d have to pay if he came out. That was something he wasn’t willing to bet with, his career, the thing he worked so hard to make. But there was a part of his on-going, clinically bipolar mind that kept begging the question, _ what if you’re wrong about the industry and they actually don’t shone you but instead accept and love you for who you are? _ He shook his head at the overly naïve thought and then turned his attention back to his manager who pressed on.

“Ian, it’s two more years and you can find your one girl to settle down with…I just need you 100% in the game until then. I can’t have you with your mind anywhere else…not when you already have a serious injury on your records.” Jensen lectured, his attention back to his phone screen while he thumbed through his emails not even bothering to look the redheaded athlete in the face.

Rolling his eyes and turning to look out the window at the tall elegant buildings of the North Side, he sighed, “Yeah, yeah I know the deal.” Instead, he spent the rest of the drive to the clinic in silence taking in the magnificence of the posh clean lines of skyscrapers and playing a little game he had a habit of doing every time he came to the North side as a child. He’d peer up at the buildings and in his mind he’d shrink them down to the old battered houses of the Southside and think about how different the two worlds seemed even if they weren’t that far away from each other.

The limo then came to a halt and Ian could hear the driver leaving to come around to his side to open his door. “Look, I thought I’d be able to stay with you for your medical but looks like they need me back at the office, they just released the preliminary list for the drafts, and you know how important it is that I snag the fresh meat in the game.”

Ian stepped out of the vehicle pulling on his pair of sunglasses and then looking back into the car, “You go do your thing, it’s just a check-up right?” As Ian was about to turn away to head towards the building he heard Jensen call out, “And make sure my knee is all good for the season.”

“ _ Your _ knee?” he said rolling his eyes behind his frames and then heading into the clinic.

He was four years into his career, living in Detroit, playing point guard for the Pistons. It was the last game of the preseason against the Celtics, a well awaited game that Ian had been buzzing for, almost jumping out of his skin with excitement. The game was everything he could dream of, the crowd’s roar was electric and he felt his adrenaline surging through his veins propelling him into a graceful dance on the balls of his feet as he skirted past the meticulous man-to-man defense of the C’s. It was the last quarter with three minutes to spare and Ian was heading for his shot at the hoop. He’d been marked all night, and the moment he needed to finally win it all was drawing closer. Defense wasn’t letting up and they showed no signs of tiring out. He could either weave his way through their defense triangle or he could take the risk of a lucky shot. He could hear his guys shouting, some telling him not to take the shot because it isn’t guaranteed to make it, and some yelling for him to shoot the goddamn ball. His gut made the call before his mind could and before he knew it, he was stopping just at the free throw line and jumping off the ground, his hands carrying the ball up and pushing it toward the basket.

Everything around him slowed down. Every second began to crawl like it had nowhere to go and Ian felt like it was minutes before he landed back on his feet. But when he did he knew nothing would ever be the same. There was a loud  _ pop _ , and the excruciating pain had him curling inwards on the gymnasium floor yelling out. His line of vison had gone completely black as he heard the bustle and hum of the crowd’s reaction. 

The doctor’s diagnosis was a ligament tear, and so Ian was rushed into surgery and went through extensive physiotherapy to be able to get back on his feet and be impressive enough to be drafted by the Chicago Bulls all of eleven months later. It was in the wake of his accident that they had discovered his mental health was just as injured as his physique. He had been way too high, according to his siblings, for just being told he may never be able to play again and then the high was followed by the low bout of depression that had overtaken him the day after finding out he had been drafted by the Bulls. His older brother, Lip was the first to be able to pinpoint that he might be suffering from the same dilemma as their absent mother. Even four years later and he hates thinking of the memories of his diagnosis.

He quickly made his way into the building and to the elevator as he mulled over the thoughts of hating visiting the doctor. He kept his head down and his shades on trying his hardest to not be spotted by anyone. He didn’t need the anxiety of meeting any fans now because his heart was already racing with the regular nervousness of being in the examination room. When the elevator opened he was so thankful that he was the only one who would be riding it up to the third floor.

After checking in and sitting in those damn uncomfortable chairs Ian was being led to the examination room. “Full medical examination?” the grey-haired nurse asked as she swooned over him. She clearly recognised him and made no attempt to hide it.

“Yes, Ma’am” Ian answered.

She quickly pulled his file jotting a few things down before leading him to the examination room.

“Well just have a seat on the bed, Dr Lance will be here shortly,” and so the nurse was out of the room. Ian wasn’t new to this, he got very used to coming by this very clinic to visit Dr Lance after his accident. Ian particularly hated the awkward moment of the doctor’s visit when he’d be told “Drop your pants”. So he made sure to remove his clothing before the doctor came in, it made everything go so much faster. This day wasn’t anything different, Ian took off each article of clothing and folded it neatly before taking his seat on the examination bed. The only thing he hated was the bed’s position…being that the only way for him to sit allowed full frontal view of his ‘goods’ as soon as his doctor walked in. Usually there was a sheet laying on the bed for him to cover himself but today the cotton sheet was replaced with a disposable paper lining only covering the surface of the bed.

  
  


***

He was running late and late was something Mickey Milkovich didn’t do. After his alarm failed to go off that morning and then having to deal with unwanted drama of his sister he was finally parking his BMW in the North Side Private Clinic car park. After working his ass off all throughout med school he had finally gotten his break from the treacherous life he once led. There was no more coke runs or gun trading or running his father’s goddamn Rub n’ Tug at the age of sixteen. He was respectable now, carrying himself with pride. As he stepped out and padded across the wet, rain-slicked tar he could see his favourite short blonde leaning onto the side of the building. “Good morning, Dr Milkovich,” the nurse answered as he approached her.

“The fuck have I told you about that Jackie?” He answered heaving from running across the car park.

“It’s Mickey out here and Dr in there...sorry” his friend of three years answered as she held out a cup of coffee to him. “Grumpy much?”

“Yeah well Mandy called this morning...something about her boyfriend stealing all the rent money I gave her to buy fucking weed,” he complained as they both walked toward the doorway.

“Oh come on, you know you love to be needed,” he shot her his famous fuck you look as she pushed the door open earning him a muttered sorry.

“Hey you forgot to band aid your fingers.” She pointed out as he pressed the button on the elevator.

“Fuck!” he muttered fishing in his messenger bag to find the box of flesh coloured bandages he kept in there for instances as such.

“Here give me the cup.” She took the coffee while he precisely wrapped a bandage around each of his fingers. Usually Mickey was never ashamed of his past and his upbringing but it was times like this he regretted his drunken teen mistake of allowing his father and brothers to “initiate” him into the family drug business by getting Fuck U-Up tattooed on his knuckles. He had attempted to have them removed but it hurt like a motherfucker so now they were a bit faded by still very much there. The elevator dinged and he and Jackie stepped out onto the physiotherapy and sports medicine floor of the clinic, she gave back his cup and went to the nurses’ desk.

“Good morning, Dr Milkovich...you’re late...you’re never late. Did something happen?” Mrs Tarver, the director of the clinic, asked as she saw him approach the nurse’s desk.

“Just a family emergency, Ma’am” Mickey answered, his previous slang and obscenities gone out the window.

“Well I’m glad you’re here now, your four-week therapy patient is here for his last session,” she said passing him the clipboard with patient information, “I was now going to ask Dr Dickens to take it but I guess there is no need.” She said as she turned to head toward her office. Jackie snickered as Mickey muttered under his breath how much of a dick Dr Dickens really was.

After reading through his patient’s record and shoving his messenger bag into his locker in the doctors’ lounge, Mickey made his way to the exam room. Looking up before entering his room, he clarified that it was in fact Exam Room 3N. He pushed it open and walked in keeping his head down going over once again his patient’s file, “Good morning” he announced.

“Where the hell is Dr Lance?” Mickey looked up as he heard a voice that definitely didn’t belong to his 62-year-old patient. One thing was for certain, Mickey was not expecting to be greeted by a gorgeous, jaw dropping ginger who just so happened to be one of the most popular basketball players to ever emerge from Chicago. But most of all, Mickey wasn’t expecting said basketball player (who he might have jerked off a couple times to in the comforts of his bathroom when flipping through Sports Illustrated) to be sat as naked as he was born, with whatever God gave him…wait sorry, BLESSED him with dangling between his legs. How long had Mickey been standing here? Had he been staring?  _ The fuck Mickey, look away from his crotch! _ Mickey held up his hand to block his view, “Wow, uh sorry, you’re not Mr Yakoshire.” He said. He then moved his hands a bit to see that the redhead had not even made a move to hide himself.

“No, I’m Ian Gallagher.” The basketball player answered plainly. Mickey looked over his hand again to see the athlete in the same position as before confidently raising his eyebrows.

“Right, I’m sorry, there seems to be a mix up with the room in my file. Sorry about that” Mickey tried to avoid Ian’s face turning around to exit when he heard the man speak again, “Dr….”

“Milkovich,” Mickey answered trying his best to not turn back.

  
“Can you let Dr Lance know that I’m pressed for time?” he couldn’t help his God forsaken gay self from turning back one last time. The ginger still wearing a smug look like he knew the doctor was uncomfortable just smiled gently sending fucking butterflies fluttering in Mickey’s stomach.  _ The fuck Milkovich, when did you become such a teenage girl? _

“Uh…sure” Mickey quickly looked away and hustled out the examination room and trudged down the hall to the nurses’ desk. If it was one thing, Mickey was a professional when it came to his job. He left all his Southside ways behind when he stepped into the clinic. He had worked too hard to get where he was and to feel respected so he wasn’t going to give anyone the opportunity to rub in his face that he was the same piece of southside trash they thought he was. But it was moments like this… that he knew he could kill his friend Jackie. As he saw the short blonde walking out one of the rooms he grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her to the side of the hall, “What the hell..” she protested but smirked with knowing eyes when she saw who pulled at her.

“You changed the rooms on the patient sheet.” He sternly said crossing his arms on his chest.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about…”

He looked at her then hitching his eyebrows high in judgement.

“Fine… you think I don’t know you dream about Hottie McRed?” she smiled taking the pen out her pocket to fix the room number on Mickey’s sheet.

“What?”

“Come on…you watch every Chicago Bulls game…and then watch them on replay…you telling me you didn’t want to meet him in real life?”

“I mean yeah, I’ve watched his games but I’m not a stalker…and I didn’t want to meet him with his dick out in the open.” He exclaimed in a whisper.

“Wait what?!” her eyes grew wide then.

“Yeah…the guy was stark naked.” He mumbled rubbing at his forehead.

“Wow…I didn’t know he’d be naked…Well we know you’re not complaining.” She smiled wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“Jackie…I may be out and proud about it but this is my work…I try to be professional here.”

“Aright…I’m sorry. Mr Yakoshire is in 3W…” he nodded then made his way to where his elderly patient was waiting far too long. Jackie held his wrist stopping him, “What?”

“So….how big are we talking?” she teased.

“I’m not telling you that…”  _ really fucking big Jackie....really fucking big _ Mickey thought.


	2. Dr Milkovich...He’s Smart And He’s Respectful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then I wouldn’t get to share one of these with you.” Ian said boldly smiling as he flicked his cigarette. Mickey was now the one who was surprised. He’s definitely flirting. But wasn’t this guy the same guy who had a different girl on his arm every night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is just the second chapter and it may seem like it’s crawling. I promise it’s going somewhere ♥️
> 
> Idk how often I’m going to be updating this but don’t get hopeful because this one is two days later 😂 Uni starts back the first week of September 😫 but hopefully I can manage and be able to keep this going strong. Any suggestions drop it in the comments. If you have any prompts or one shot ideas you’d like me to try out you can add it to the comments as well or you can message me on twitter @ eiysianaurora, my DMs are always open

Ian would never admit that his encounter with the black-haired doctor especially eased his nerves for his appointment. He’d also be a sore liar if he said he’d stopped thinking of the man. On any other given day Ian would have squirmed to cover himself, but when he laid eyes on the other man he had a dangerous burst of confidence and sat still in all the glory he was made in. It’s only after the bout of adrenaline he felt that he’s now realising how careless he was behaving. He had to stick this out for two more years. Just two more fucking years. It doesn’t matter how many sexy doctors or guys waltz their way into exam rooms, Ian had to keep his head on straight. He was almost through his medical examination when the old blonde doctor proceeded then to look closer at his damaged knee. His finger traced along the darkened scar, putting slight pressure when he reached the point where he knew had the worst damage. Pressing his middle and index finger to the side of the knee he noticed when Ian winced in pain. “Scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how’s the pain?”

Ian refused to allow the small burning sensation in his knee hinder him from taking part in the preseason, “A one,”

Dr Lance looked Ian over with a knowing look. “It’s quite inflamed, I need you to be off it for about two weeks. Give it some time without strenuous activity.” His doctor walked over to the counter and started making notes on the file attached to the clipboard, “You can get dressed. You need to take two weeks off or you’re going to end up taking two years off or maybe the rest of forever off.”

“You and I know I can’t do that, we’re a month away from the playoff. I can’t miss training. I made it through the season I can make finish the playoffs.” Ian argued as he pulled his underwear and jeans on.

“Ian, we’ve been over this, multiple times. You need to slow down. Those guys are at 100%, you‘re not. You got to look out for yourself in the long run.” Ian rolled his eyes as his back was turned to his doctor as he pulled on his white t-shirt. “You might even want to start considering not making a full game…”

“How long do I have to wait for the report?” He asked ignoring the doctor’s last remarks as he picked his jacket up from the chair.

“Let me just have one of the nurses stamp a copy for you.” Dr Lance answered making his way out of the exam room and to the nurses’ desk with Ian trailing behind him. An average height brunette took the papers to the office behind her to photocopy it and then bring it back out for the doctor to sign and stamp.

Before handing the report over, the doctor locked eyes with Ian, “Listen, you need to think of yourself. I’ve been seeing you for how many years now? Five? I know you can be stubborn. You don’t want me calling Jensen. Or worst yet Fiona.” At the mention of his older sister’s name Ian (even though he’d never admit it) felt a little scared. He never dared to stand up to her when it came to his health…no matter how old he got, she always had a certain kind of authority over him. “Here, this is a call card for one of our best Sports Doctors who specializes in physiotherapy, he works here so trust me he’s really fucking good. If the pain in your knee gets worse…call him…please?”

Ian took his documents and then glanced back at the call card being held out to him. Rolling his eyes he took it and muttered a thank you, “I’ll see you around.”

“You better! Are you coming to the bar-b-que this weekend? Jason’s doing the cooking.”

“Uh, I’m not sure. I’ll see.” Ian was informed of the bar-b-que about three weeks before but he was looking for every opportunity to avoid it. Ever since his sister had started dating his doctor’s son, he just felt strange being around the family. He felt like they all knew a detailed description of his medical file and he hated it. Walking out the building Ian looked down at the card Lance gave him. “_ Dr Mikhailo A. Milkovich _ ” Unexpectedly a smile crept unto Ian’s face as the memory of the stocky raven-haired doctor walking in on him naked flooded his mind once again. _ Milkovich. _Being in the situation he was in with not being able to physically satisfy himself the way he wanted, he couldn’t help but stare a little longer at a gorgeous man. Or make sure the conversations lasted a little longer. The thought of the black-haired man wasn’t helping for his horny gay mind. The man was absolutely beautiful with pale skin and full plump pink lips. Ian was standing on the curb outside the clinic waiting for Fiona to arrive and he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for the growing hard-on he was sporting. He spotted a eaved alley to the side of the building deciding he wait there out of the drizzling rain.

***

Mickey had just finished his first therapy session of the day when he felt his fingers quivering with the withdrawal of nicotine. He always had a routine; get to work early at 8 am, smoke a cigarette, get through until 11am and then smoke another and so on. But that morning he was in such a rush that he had to forego his routine. So at 10:22 am he had to hold his fingers too still to prevent it from tapping on the nurse’s desk while he waited for her to get a file. Jackie came out then, “Bevin…what are you looking for?” she asked as she saw how uneasy Mickey was. And everyone who worked with Mickey knew to never mess with his routine. “The lumbar imaging for Casden I can’t seem to find it…Dr Milkovich needs it.” the nurse responded as she flipped through the stack of x-rays.

“Why do you need it? I thought you explained it to them two days ago.” Jackie said as she thumbed through the second box under the desk.

“They want it…they’re going to get a second opinion.” Mickey said irritably.

Jackie laughed as she pulled it out, “They do know that whoever they go to is just gonna refer them back to you right?” she was about to hand it over then pulled back. “Go, I’ll give them it.”

“Really?” he asked completely relieved she knew him so well.

“Yeah…I know that ginger dick you saw early is probably got you uneasy.” She teased lowly as she passed him. Rolling his eyes he patted his pocket to make sure he had his lighter and cigarettes then made his way outside.

Rain definitely wasn’t Mickey’s favourite but he did like right after it had stopped falling when the place was almost still and cool…well that’s what it was like when he walked out. He pulled his cigarette out of the box and settled against the side of the building, his usual spot.

“Hey mind if I bum a smoke?” a raspy voice spoke causing Mickey to look up. The cigarette almost fell from his lips when he saw the redheaded athlete leaning on the other side of the alley.

“Uh-uh sure…” Mickey stuttered holding out his box for Ian to take one. His long, freckled fingers reached out pulling the cigarette out as well as all the breath from Mickey’s lungs. Mickey shook his head then in an attempt to snap out of it. He reached into his scrubs pocket taking out his lighter and bringing it to the tip of his cigarette. He flicked it once…twice but it could barely hold a flame. “Fuck.” He muttered as he tried another dozen times. Then those long fingers were inches from his lips without warning. He looked up to see Ian leaning in holding his own lighter to Mickey’s cigarette. Mickey eyed him as he pulled on the grit. With an easy smile Ian backed off but didn’t step away from the brunette. “Thanks” Mickey muttered.

Ian then leaned onto the side of the building beside Mickey as he smoked his cigarette, flicking it ever so often onto the concrete. The silence was nothing short of awkward in Mickey’s eyes. Though the redhead somehow found it comforting. Mickey stared ahead as he could feel green eyes burning into him from the left. It was like suddenly the air became thick all around him and he was drowning in one of those toss up moments where you’re on the brink of saying something but you keep pulling yourself back in fear that the altercation could go terribly wrong. _ Man the fuck up, Mickey! He’s just a guy…a straight one in fact _. “I’m sorry I walked in….you know?” Mickey then said finally done with being consumed by the growing wkwardness.

“Huh?...Oh it’s no problem man really… you’re a doctor right…nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Right” Mickey answered quietly as he pulled in a deep breath of his smoke. “It’s just that the nurse who filled out my sheet she uh…well she knows I’m a fan….of the sport…” _ way to fucking go Mickey. _ He was internally slapping himself.

“Yeah? You watch my games?” Mickey was careful to avoid the ginger’s eyes but he could almost hear the smug tone of his voice. _ He’s straight Mickey…why the fuck would he be flirting? _

“Uh…yeah…The fuck a celebrity like you doing in an alleyway?” Mickey asked between the honks of the street cars desperate to the direct the attention off himself.

Firstly, Ian was taken aback by the difference he was seeing in the black-haired doctor. An hour before he was shy and well-spoken and now there was this rough raw way about him that reminded Ian so much of the Southside, of home. Living life among the rich and famous, he often found himself deprived of that familiarity that he grew up with and was so eager to leave behind but yet found himself yearning for it. Ian smiled before he answered, “I’m waiting for my sister to pick me up, and she’s running late in traffic.”

“Take a fucking Uber!” Mickey argued around his cigarette.

“Then I wouldn’t get to share one of these with you.” Ian said boldly smiling as he flicked his cigarette. Mickey was now the one who was surprised. He’s definitely flirting. But wasn’t this guy the same guy who had a different girl on his arm every night?

Just then before Mickey could respond, they were both snapped out of their conversation by the shouts from the street.

“Where you goin’ sexy thing? Come give me some sugar!” an old man sitting on the sidewalk called as a woman walked in the direction of the clinic. She pulled her jacket tightly to her chest as she cowered away from his slurs and vulgarity. Mickey sucked on his teeth as he bit into his lip, “Fucking disgusting.” He muttered as he fought his very best not to say anything. “If that was my sister she’d fucking kick his ass like I taught her to.”

“Hmm Dr Milkovich…he’s smart and he’s respectful to women…your lady must be real lucky.” Ian joked as he stubbed his cigarette out on the side of the building.

Mickey scoffed loudly causing Ian to look at him in the eyes, “What?” Ian asked.

“I…there’s no lady man….I’m gay.” Mickey said as he crushed his own cigarette and then pushed off the building.

Ian’s eyes grew wide as he wasn’t expecting that response from the hard-edged man. “What? You one of those homophobic pricks?” Mickey asked, quick to defend.

“What? No…uh I don’t care.” Ian said, “Thanks for the smoke.” He then threw the grit to the ground and then walked off pass Mickey. Mickey stood there in confusion of the athlete’s reaction.

***

Mickey was absolutely hating himself right now. He was walking up the stairs to his apartment when the thought of just throwing himself on the couch, turning on some basketball and chilling the fuck out was interrupted with the thought of the certain redhead who would be on his television screen. He could just smack himself in the head right now. He turned the key of the door and entered throwing his bag to the floor followed by his jacket. He was proud of all he had accomplished and it really was a lot, and despite the fact that he always loved his simple living he sometimes felt disappointed that there wasn’t much life and zeal to his apartment. His studio apartment wasn’t exactly tiny but it was still quite small compared to the other lavish homes doctors owned on the north side. With plain black floorboards, and white walls, his bed sat to the left of the room slightly raised by a deck adjacent to the door to the bathroom, and on the right was the kitchen and living area. It was all plain, modern furniture with very ittle to no décor. What can he say…he just loved simple living. Being one of the best in his field had allowed him to provide things for himself and his family that they never had growing up. Mickey was going on his fourth year working at the clinic and although everyone on the staff asked why he stayed, he always answered that he just likes it. It wasn’t extremely busy but it was the closest thing to feeling needed and homey that he could get without returning to Back of the Yards. Mickey only worked there three days for the week, other times he went around to the sports clubs doing checks ups, physiotherapy with injured athletes or he might even do house calls. But it was two years before that he was most proud of, the year he was offered to work for the 2016 Olympics in Brazil. Mickey still, despite how many international clubs sent him offers remained in Chicago, simply because it was home.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked over to the couch turning on the television. There it was paused from the night before when he was watching the Bulls game against the Pelicans from a few months back. He pressed play and settled in. It took less than two seconds after pressing play for the camera to zoom in on the Bulls shooting guard, the same redhead Mickey saw butt naked that morning. Mickey had always been a fan of basketball…to him it was just a plus that there were good looking men in the sport. He sighed, trying his hardest to not think of the athlete’s dick that he had seen, and reached forward for the remote shutting the tv off. It’s not that Mickey had never seen a dick before…after all he was a doctor as the athlete himself had pointed out and he was a very experienced gay man, but it was still fucking weirding him out. And then with the weirded out feeling came the memory of the ginger saying “Then I wouldn’t get to share one of these with you.” referring to the cigarette he had given him. _ Was he flirting? Or was he just genuinely being nice and enjoying the company? Why the fuck would he flirt? _He had to be fucking straight with the number of women he’s been with. It was all too weird for Mickey probably because he didn’t expect the guy to look even better in person. With his freckled face and sharp jawline, all pulled together nicely with his forest green eyes. “Fuck” I really need to stop thinking straight men are hot.

***

When Ian got into his penthouse suit that evening after having dinner at his childhood home with his siblings he let his body fall against his luxurious leather couch flipping the television on. He settled in for reruns of Big Bang Theory not really paying much mind to it. Instead, he found his mind drifting to pale, lightly freckled skin and piercing blue eyes. Slicked back black hair and plump pink lips. He could almost see it right in from of him, the way the doctor’s baby blue scrubs fell against his frame hugging at just the right places accentuating his thick muscular biceps and pectorals muscles. Ian knows it’s wrong to be thinking of the man this way but the vision of his walking out the exam room in engrained in Ian’s mind. He’ll never be able to unsee the image of the thin cotton scrubs bottoms hugging at Dr Milkovich’s thighs. And Goddamn that fucking ass. 

Ian breath is quickening he knows if he gives into the temptation shit will never be the same and he’d never be able to walk into that clinic without feeling the guilt. He shuts the television off and heads into the bathroom before stripping his clothing off. He turns the water on as cold as his body could handle and stepped under the spray allowing they water to cool him down and relax him. 

After six years in the business and having to put up with Jensen’s deal, Ian’s been really careful. He had never before let his attraction to another man make him careless or flirty. He’s always kept himself in check until today. Something about the black haired doctor made Ian reckless. Made him forget he was supposed to be “the hot straight player athlete.” He needs to get himself together because if the way he flirted with the doctor was any indication of how much he needed to relieve his bottled up tension, he needed to be more careful. If he flirted with the wrong person in the wrong setting, he might find himself with an unwanted story selling in the tabloids. 

When he’s clean and definitely not sexually tense he steps of the shower and heads into the bedroom to get ready for bed. When he sits at the edge of his bed and takes his night pills he looks down at his knee. He sighs loudly looking at the dark scar that burns when he runs his fingers over it. A little sliver of his consciousness knows that Dr Lance is right. He’s been pushing himself too hard lately but he isn’t going to let his body rule his life anymore. He isn’t going to let it inhibit him from making his team proud. 

He’s the shooting guard. His main job is to score points from his team, bring the ball up and force the defense into the perimeter of the court. He’s good at his job but he’s tired of his body and mind telling him he can’t or he shouldn’t do his job anymore. He lets out a frustrated grunt as he shuts the lamp off and lies down. He needs to be well rested for training the next day, so he shuts his mind off as best as he could as waits for sleep to overtake him. He’d have much fathered thoughts of the brunette doctor right now instead of the impending doom his career was facing. 


	3. BoysBoysBoys Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please, Mickey…I need a night out. I’m heartbroken and I need to unwind.”
> 
> She knew he’d give in any second so she kept pleading until he did, “Fine…meet me at my place at 7 we could hit up The Cove…It’s BoysBoysBoys night.” He chuckled.
> 
> “A room full of hot gay men is better than my empty apartment…count me in.” she laughed on the other end of the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a little update to make your Monday brighter...I hope Lol. This Fic is something that has been really about me experimenting and trying to write outside my comfort zone. I don’t think I’ve written anything like this as yet. I’m excited for you to read this chapter. It’s fun it’s flirty and a little (very little 😂) sexy. Either way I hope you enjoy it. Don’t forget to leave comments and kudos. I really wanna hear some feedback and what you may possibly like to see in the future for this fic .
> 
> I know it’s fairly early and they don’t seem to interact much but Istg it’s coming. I gotta build the story to the point where I want it to be so I apologise if it’s slow so far but I promise it’ll pick up. Thanks for all the love so far I really appreciate it
> 
> Also I want to thank Vicky and Shannon for encouraging me when I may lose my faith in this fic. Thanks this update wouldn’t be possible without you ♥️

Sweat was dripping down the sides of Ian’s face as he persisted running, his feet pounding heavily on the track of the treadmill. He stared forward at the television screen before him as he watched reruns of How I Met Your Mother, focusing on the faces and movements as he could barely hear a word the characters are saying over his breathing. He huffed loudly clearing his lungs as he glanced down to the screen of the treadmill. He was almost at his five-mile mark. He just needed to keep pushing forward. It was his only way to make up for the hours of practice he was losing since Coach Platt had cut down his hours. It was the only way he could be ready for the season. When he wrapped up his practice he made his way to the kitchen of his penthouse to grab a water and his lunch. Closing the fridge door shut is when he was greeted with the creased call card for Dr Milkovich that he had clipped to the fridge door with a magnet. It was almost two weeks since he had shared a smoke with the other man outside the clinic and for some reason Ian couldn’t shake the memory of the other man. It’s not that Ian had never met another gay attractive man before, because he has. He’s just never met one who makes him want to throw all his rules out the door. He’s sure it’s just the infatuation making him feel like this because he doesn’t even know the brunette man. Ian hasn’t been with another man in a really long time so he’s sure it simply because he is horny. He brought his hand up thumbing at it. Maybe he should call…for strictly physiotherapy reasons. “Hey, you home?” sounded his brother’s voice as the door of his apartment opened and closed.

“Uh…kitchen.” Ian called as he was jolted from his thoughts. He sat down at the kitchen isle as Lip turned the corner walking into his kitchen.

“Hey, man” he greeted as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and made his way to sit next to his brother, “Why are you all sweaty…I thought Fiona said you aren’t training on a Tuesday anymore.”

Ian shrugged, “Just did some light jogging…needed to clear my mind. What’s up?”

“I need some advice…” Lip said sheepishly.

Ian smirked, “Wow look at that…Mr Know-It-All is finally coming to us common folk for advice.”

“Shut the fuck up! There is not common folk about you.” Lip said gesturing to luxury of Ian’s penthouse.

Ian backed off as he shoved a mouthful of salad into his mouth, “What’s up?”

“You remember that robot we built that summer and entered it into the fight clubs? Well I’ve been working on something similar…and the military contacted me.” Lip said softly like he was scared they could have tapped his phones.

“Holy shit…what do they want? Are you in some kind of trouble for building that kind of shit?” Ian asked.

“No…no trouble…they kind of want me to come work for them.”

“What advice could you possibly need? They’re willing to pay you to do your hobby…why aren’t you jumping at that?”

Lip had suddenly realised how stupid he was being for waiting to agree to the terms… “I don’t know…some kind of Southside pride I guess. I mean I am going to be working for the Big Guy.”

Ian rolled his eyes and reached over smacking Lip upside the head, “If we all had an insane amount of loyalty to the Southside out of fear of being judged for moving up we’d be stuck there forever. Just because you’re working a better job or have a steady income doesn’t even mean you gotta move out. What did Ashley say about it?”

“Uh…there is no more Ashley…she got back with her ex-boyfriend…after I convinced her to.”

Ian glared at his brother. There Lip went trying to fix everyone’s lives and situations without a second thought about himself. “When are you going to stop depriving yourself of happiness?” he asked his older brother.

“Uh…when you stop doing the same…”

Ian hung his head, “My situation is different and you know it.”

“Maybe…still doesn’t change the fact that you got more ass living in our homophobic neighbourhood than you do living in the yuppy North side, huh?”

It was true…Ian had been more sexually active and free when he was younger than he was as a grown adult. Snorting he said, “Jeez, I swear I was closeted before like you know just locked in a locker….Now I feel like someone took that locker shoved in a vault and then dropped it in the middle of the fucking Atlantic…”

***

He was washing the dishes violently on a Friday night as he listened to Mandy yell over the loudspeaker of his phone about how done she was with her boyfriend…ex-boyfriend. He offered up a couple mhm’s and what the fuck’s but mostly just let her vent all her problems to him. When Mandy stopped for a brief moment he made the mistake of commenting “Don’t know why you ever dated the fucker in the first place.” And then she started again on all the reasons why she thought she loved him.

Sighing loudly she argued, “I guess you’ll never know what that’s like.”

“What the fuck does that mean bitch?” he countered.

“Jesus…I didn’t mean it like that…I just mean that you have serious commitment issues when it comes to anything that isn’t your job. You bone and run and I get you think you have no time for a relationship but your job is always going to have you busy you know, Mick. You gotta just gotta make the time.” He remained silent then thinking over her words. He had spent countless nights thinking about his escapades of the North side. Hook up after hook up with no strings tying him down simply because he was too focused on the career he built that he didn’t want to be distracted. “Mickey? Shitface…you there?”

“Yeah…I do consider it you know?” he answered softly unaware of if she could hear him.

“Consider what?”

“Stopping sleeping around, cutting back on hours…settling down. I just haven’t found anyone who doesn’t piss me off yet.”

His sister sighed then comfortingly said how much she knew. They were close, him and Mandy. And she had known far better than anyone how much Mickey had grown over the years. He had come to accept himself in ways he never dreamed of as a teenager. He had grown past the thug who suffered from serious internalized homophobia to being this young man who had learned to love himself as a whole and in turn flourished because of it. However, while Mandy had made great efforts in trying to overcome her hold backs and fears of intimacy, Mickey wasn’t so successful. He couldn’t get past certain things. So, while some would see taking a dick up his ass as pretty fucking intimate, Mickey didn’t. It was a means to an end of satisfaction as long as he didn’t have to see the guy again and he didn’t have to emotionally bare himself. That’s why he never did sex face to face, he never kissed anyone, and he sure as hell didn’t spend the night.

“You heading out tonight?” Mandy asked in a more quiet and reserved way.

“Ah…maybe I’m not sure.”

“Go out man, find someone and hook up. Get rid of all your pent-up energy.”

“Are you just waiting for me to say yeah I’m going out so you could invite yourself along?” he joked knowing his sister all too well.

“Please, Mickey…I need a night out. I’m heartbroken and I need to unwind.”

She knew he’d give in any second so she kept pleading until he did, “Fine…meet me at my place at 7 we could hit up The Cove…It’s BoysBoysBoys night.” He chuckled.

“A room full of hot gay men is better than my empty apartment…count me in.” she laughed on the other end of the line.

***

The rain was hammering down on the concrete as Ian made his run from the car to the back entrance of the Chicago Bulls’ Headquarters. Each drop was cold against his skin as it soaked through his navy-blue hoodie. Once under the eave of the building he shook out the excess water and pulled his hood off before he pushed through the red double doors. The air conditioning of the halls sent chills down his wet body as he entered. He walked through the white halls heading straight for the locker rooms. The noise that emanated the room echoed against the metal lockers as half naked men strutted around the room with water dripping from their toned bodies. Ian had to admit it was absolute hell as well as heaven for a closeted gay man.

“Yo, Rusty!” called the Bulls’ point guard, Casey. The short, pale skinned, stocky guy was probably Ian’s only real friend on the team.

“Right…you wanna tease me about my hair when yours looks like that? Fuck off…what the fuck you did to it anyway?” Ian said as he ran his hand over his friend’s head, “Look like you’re gonna join the fucking marines.”

“Fuck off! I needed a change man. You know new beginnings and all that shit.” He said as Ian began peeling each article of wet clothing off his body and dropping it to the floor.

“Dani finally move all her shit out the house?” Ian asked looking up at his friend as he tugged his socks off.

“Yeah, bitch isn’t taking the fact that I got the condo well…look I’m putting my clothes in the dryer, throw yours in too?” he asked as he was already picking each piece of clothing up before the redhead could answer.

“Yeah…” Ian muttered as he reached into his locker to grab at his towel to wrap it around his waist. Casey came back shortly and sat on the bench beside Ian as he started to pull out his training clothing.

“So…how you handling everything?” Ian asked as he looked into his duffle bag for a clean pair of boxers.

“Beside the ache in my chest because she won’t let me see my kid after she’s the one who threw five years of marriage down the fucking drain when she decided to fuck the neighbour? I’m just peachy!” Casey bitched.

“I thought you both won shared custody?” Ian asked looking over his shoulder to see Casey tying his shoelaces aggressively.

“Yeah…but she keeps saying she isn’t gonna bring Jaylin by for my weekends or she isn’t gonna let me into her apartment to see the kid.” He huffed loudly rubbing his hand down his face.

“So…uh, does shared custody also extend to the bun in the oven?” Ian asked curiously.

Another sigh later and Casey is muttering, “It depends on if the kid is mine.”

“Right…how many more months before you find out?”

“Three.” He said hanging his head low.

Ian genuinely felt sorry for his friend, so while he was feeling like shit already and just wanted to get home to do absolutely nothing, he found himself offering his friend a night out. “You wanna hit up The Cove after practice?” Ian asked.

“The Cove? You hate that place.” Casey asked as he briefly recalled the time Ian had sworn on his life that he’d never return there. His argument being that he was a feminist and they didn’t need their waitresses flaunting everything they had to the perverts who ogled at them. While Casey bought the bullshit story Ian knew very well that the reason he didn’t like the bar was simply because he didn’t appreciate seeing so many cleavages in one place.

“Yeah…but you like it and you’re a single man now, so I’m giving you one night to be that douche who ogles. After that you go back to looking above the neck.” Ian laughed as he shoved past his friend towards the gym.

***

The Cove wasn’t the typical sports bar. It was this odd crossover between a club, a bar and a restaurant. Every night was usually a different theme where all the waitresses dressed up provocatively while they worked the floor serving drinks. Some nights there were dancers, some nights there was live performances. It was one of those high-end places that everyone knew sketchy things happened at like under the counter drugs and waitresses “showing customers a good time for a special fee.” Ian never liked the place but it was somewhere all his teammates loved. It happened to be the place they all took Ian for his ‘initiation’.

It was after a long practice session and Ian rotated his shoulders in circular motions as he waited at the bar for his ordered drinks. “One Stella Artois and a Bourbon old fashioned.” Ian took the two drinks and headed over to the booth in the corner they had snagged when they had arrived.

Placing the beer down before Casey, he took the seat opposite and looked around the room before noticing Casey’s eyes locked on him. “Dude, I know I’m a treat and all but I brought you here to get Dani off your mind by getting another girl on it…not me” he smiled before meeting his friend’s eyes.

Shaking his head laughing Casey explained, “No man…I’m just looking at your drink. You drink like such a fucking old man. What’s wrong with a normal beer.”

“You call Stella Artois a normal beer? An Old Style is a normal beer. The fuck’s wrong with what I’m drinking? It tastes good…growing up I didn’t even have the luxury of knowing what this was.”

“Fucking grandpa…” Casey muttered looking up from his beer to scope out the woman who was supposed to take his wretched ex-wife off his mind. But all he found was mostly dudes.

“The fuck’s up with the cock fest?” he asked, motioning with his hand around the room.

“Maybe they’re here to see the dancers. They’re supposed to be getting on stage any minute now.” Ian said, glancing down to his shiny watch.

“You got the time they go on memorized? Or do you just remember from that time you were banging the front row dancer…what was her name again?” the stocky point guard teased as he rehashed the memory of Ian and his very much fake relationship with the dancer.

“Annabeth” Ian muttered under his breath barely audible.

“Annabeth!” Casey exclaimed slamming his hand down on the table, “Now she was a work of art.”

“I still got her number if you’re so keen,” Ian joked, trying his best to hide his distaste of the memory.

“No, man she was in love with you I can’t do you that.” Before Ian could respond, the lights went low bringing the room to almost complete darkness with the exception of the royal blue glow around the bar and stage area.

After a good while and two drinks in the music crept to a low bass and then the light flashed every time the pitch of the track spiked. Casey rubbed his hands together giggling like a kid in a candy store. But as quickly as he started giggling, he stopped. The regular bodacious dancers were replaced by muscular, lean men all clad in tiny leather booty shorts. Ian and Casey’s jaws dropped low as the men all strutted out from the back rolling their bodies in time with the music. The men surrounding the stage all whistled and clapped at the sight.

“What the fuck is this?” Casey asked all too loudly, “Where are all the hot chicks?”

“It’s their off-night man. It’s the night of the gay lovers, boys!” A stranger who stood leaned against the side of their booth called in response. Ian’s head turned around to find the last person he ever expected to see that night. Let alone him boldly grinning at the group of men thrusting their hips in their direction. Dr Mikhailo Milkovich. The black-haired doctor stood above Ian in a crisp navy dress shirt with his hair combed back. His pink lips wet with drops of beer.

Mickey then took his eyes off the stage to meet heavy, slightly tipsy green ones staring back at him. “I don’t think this your kinda party,” He joked as he sipped his beer, eyeing Ian over the bottle. Ian felt like the entire room stopped. He knew this could only be his pent-up sexual energy because no way in hell was a stranger supposed to make anyone feel like this right? The room wasn’t supposed to stop. Ian wasn’t supposed to be hyper aware of every pulse of the room. The movement of Mickey’s bottle to his lips isn’t supposed to be so goddamn slow.

Sighing loudly Casey got up, “That’s what my luck has turned too. You sleep with one woman for 10 years. Six of which you were married for. You be faithful. You have a beautiful child together. And then she fucks the neighbour, you get divorced and when you go out just to get a piece of ass it’s fucking gays night.” Casey exasperatedly gets up muttering that he was going to bring the car around and left Ian sitting there still staring into Mickey’s eyes.

“Friend having a rough night, Red?” Mickey asked licking his lips.

“Uh…yeah. I’m gonna go.” Ian said getting up to follow Casey although he’d much rather sit and endure the sight that was not the ten men stripping on the stage. He rose to his feet but couldn’t find himself to move, his eyes locked on Mickey’s wet lips.

“What… a couple half naked men don’t turn your rotors?” Mickey laughed as he cocked his eyebrows up in what Ian perceived as a flirty way. Ian could feel the two drinks he had creeping its way up. His head was light and his eyes felt heavy. It was times like this he said  _ “Fuck You!” _ to his meds for making him such a lightweight. “So, tell me what does turn your wheels?” Mickey asks. And suddenly Ian is wondering if the lust he had was written so plainly on his face. Ian’s next words were out into the world before he could think it over. It was like as soon as the image and thought came to his head he blurted it out not even realising what he had said until after it was done.

“Maybe it’s you wearing those black leather booty shorts…” he spoke lowly into Mickey’s ear and he could see the shock in the doctor’s face. Ian immediately flushed as he realised what he had said. The curses of being halfway drunk - saying shit and not being drunk enough to not realise what you said. He quickly pushed pass the growing crowd of horny men and made his way out to the front of the bar. Leaving in his wake Mickey stunned with his eyes wide open and his jaw slack.

> ***

From the time Mickey walked into the bar and collected his first beer he spotted him. The tuft of red hair glowing under the luminescent flashes. He could hear Mandy chatting up the bar tender even though, according to Mickey’s gaydar, he’s totally fucking gay. He pounds against the bar top ordering a round of shots. He had to keep his line of sight away from the corner of the bar before he found himself doing something that would leave him utterly embarrassed. While he kept shouting to himself that the basketball player was no doubt straight, his mind kept reminding him about how flirty the guy was.

After his third shot he picked up his beer and moved closer leaning on the side of the booth. The lights went low and he knew the main event was coming on but he couldn’t stop sneaking glances from the corner of his eye. Then the parade of men came out and Mickey forced himself to be distracted by the muscled bodies covered in a sheen of sweat and glitter until he heard the point guard who had accompanied Ian ask “What the fuck is this?” Casey asked all too loudly, “Where are all the hot chicks?”

Before he could hold himself back from bringing attention to himself he was answering the guy, “It’s their off-night man. It’s the night of the gay lovers, boys!” Without looking he could see the shock on Ian’s face at his presence and with just the right amount of alcohol Mickey finds himself grinning at the other man’s discomfort. Mickey then chances looking at Ian. And boy oh boy is he fucked. Their eyes lock and Mickey can’t quite understand what was happening in the moment. Why is he not just feeling this in his groin but in the pit of his stomach. Ian’s blonde friend begins throwing a fit that Mickey barely hears and then he’s out the door. And still blue eyes are locked on green ones, like a forest of trees reaching up high trying to reach the blue of the sky.

“Friend having a rough night, Red?” Mickey could hear himself asking having zero control of his lips or mind.

“Uh…yeah. I’m gonna go.” Ian said quickly getting up to follow his friend but instead he just stood there, his eyes locked on Mickey’s wet lips. Mickey could tell just where on his face Ian was looking and he couldn’t help his tongue from peeking out to wet his plump lips licking off the drops of beer there.

Mickey could swear he almost heard a low grunt and from the look in Ian’s eyes he knows the athlete is borderline wasted, “What… a couple half naked men don’t turn your rotors?” he laughed teasingly…maybe he could get lucky tonight. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d have a straight guy go gay for the night. He could see Ian licking at his lips completely aroused, so he pushes on. “So, tell me what does turn your wheels?” Mickey asks. And then the next words are far from what Mickey is expecting. They’re words Mickey would find himself mulling over for months to come. He would spend even years thinking of the fantasy until maybe one day he could bring it to fruition.

“Maybe it’s you wearing those black leather booty shorts…” his voice low, sultry and enticing. And then as quickly as it had flown passed his lips, he clammed up like a deer caught in the headlights and then bolted.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random af but how bout that visual of Mickey in black leather booth shortys 😏😂 you’re welcome 🤣🤣
> 
> Also quick question I have this fic I’ve been working in for some time now but it’s from Yevgeny’s POV where he’s grown up and goes in search of Mickey. Is that something people would be interested in? It will explore the grown up life of Yev which includes his love life. If that makes ppl uncomfortable let me know and I’m scrap it


	4. It isn’t looking good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sight of the small tuft of red hair peeking up from the gurney as they directed it into the trauma room was what broke him out of his deep thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I’m so happy you all seem to be liking this. I’ve been kind of busy since it’s my last week of work and I go back out to school next week and I’ve been trying to make sure everything is set with my Big Bang fic. 
> 
> But I wanted to update this ♥️ Firstly I changed a little detail in chapter 2 where Ian tells the doctor he’s a month away from the preseason tip off. Changed that to the playoffs. I’ll explain in the notes at the end what the playoffs really are for those who may not understand.

“Are you even listening to me?” Fiona asked, taking a break from her rambling as she packed food into the refrigerator of Ian’s penthouse. Ian was most definitely not listening as he was tracing his finger over the gold flecks in the marble kitchen counter as she lectured him, “Ian!”

“For fuck’s sake Fi, I heard you alright?” he snapped. Fiona stopped then with her hands on her hips as she looks at him, eyebrows high and all, “Okay…what did I say?” If Ian knew his sister well, he knew she was probably lecturing him about taking things slow and easy on himself.

“You were telling me that I need to slow down…take care of my knee.” He said as he resumed tracing the gold.

She scoffed, “That’s what I meant…I knew you weren’t listening. I was saying that Jason is trying to get me to move in with him and can’t understand that I can’t leave Liam.”

“Oh…” he then got up heading toward the fridge to take out the ingredients to make his dinner.

“Hey…what’s wrong? Did Lance say something’s wrong with your knee?” she asked as she brought her hand to rub at his shoulder.

“No.” he simply said.

“You feeling okay? Is it you know…your meds?” she asked cautiously.

He rolled his eyes as he bent to reach the chicken strips on the last shelf. “Not everything is about my meds, Fiona…I’m taking them on time every day. I’m just…tired.” He lied as he straightened up to place everything on the counter.

“I know that voice, Ian…that’s not tired. That’s your ‘I’ve got something pretty heavy on my mind’ voice. Spill.”

He started unwrapping the chicken, careful to avoid her gaze as he stayed particularly quiet. “Is it the deal you have with Jensen? Because I knew sooner or later it was going to take its toll on you.” There she went again being a typical mom who knew what was wrong before you even had to say.

“Do you know what it’s like to see someone…insanely hot, but you can’t do shit about it because you made a deal to act straight?” Ian asked he said softly.

“You met someone?”

“Not really. I met this guy…doctor at the clinic actually and I know he’s gay and I wish I could ask him out but I’m - I can’t” he answered steadying his elbows on the counter and bent to rest his head on them, “Fuck”

“Now…I’m not one to endorse this but…have you ever thought of you know…paying to relieve this sexual tension? I mean so many corporates do it and no one ever finds out…”

Ian glanced up at her stunned, “Are you seriously suggesting that I pay for some random prostitute to come get me off.”

She shrugged lightly knowing it was probably an idea he’d never go for. “So, moving in with the boyfriend huh?” Ian asked changing the topic.

“No…I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Liam is only 8 I can’t leave him now.”

”Fi…sooner or later you’re going to have to start thinking of yourself a little.”

“Yeah…how bout I do that later huh? What are you making?”

“I’m just gonna steam the chicken and vegetables” he answered lazily.

“You’re not in jail…you really need to learn how to cook more interesting things. Move, I’ll make you something…if you’re tired you can go lie down, I’ll call you when I’m done.” She said as she began to take out the necessary utensils.

“What? No. Don’t you have to pick up Liam from school?” Ian inquired about their youngest brother.

“No…he’s spending the weekend with Lip. Lip’s supposed to help him study for a test that I can’t help with.” Ian smiled at the thought of his older brother helping Liam the way he had done for all of them as they grew up.

***

He was sitting at the round table that was tucked in the corner of the doctor’s lounge as he poked at his food. Like throughout his entire weekend, Mickey couldn’t get last Friday night to stop playing on repeat in his mind. He had gone to the bar in all hopes of enjoying the rare view of the gay themed night and then maybe meeting someone who wouldn’t mind taking him home. But he hadn’t planned to see the six-foot-tall drink of ginger flavoured water at the bar. After the redhead had left the bar Mickey had found himself critiquing everyone in the room and pointing out all the ways they didn’t match up to the basketball player.

“Why are you moping?” Jackie asked as she walked in and towards the fridge.

“I’m not moping.” He mumbled.

“Weren’t you supposed to go get your rocks off this weekend? You’re supposed to be in a better mood man. You’re like the only person I know who is still grumpy after sex” she said taking a seat opposite him as she cracked the seal of her Gatorade.

“One, I’m not grumpy…two, I didn’t get laid.” He said as he stuck a spoonful of mashed potato into his mouth.

“What? Why not? Weren’t there supposed to be all those hot sweaty dancers there?”

“Yeah…but there was also a certain red…” before he could finish his sentence she slapped her hand down on the table yelling Shut up.

“He was there? At ‘The Cove’s only gay lovers night in life ever? Details!”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head before he could talk, “He was there with his friend but they didn’t know it was going to be that kind of party so they left.” He knew he couldn’t tell her what Ian had said. If on the off chance Ian was gay, he was sure as heck keeping it under wraps. Mickey knew better than to out a clearly closeted man.

“Dude…we really need to get you laid. Why is this eating you up so badly?”

Sighing he snapped, “I don’t fucking know…”

“Bummer. So, are you going to the first playoffs?” She asked.

“Fuck no! Do I look like I want to be fronting that kind of cash?” Mickey huffed as he scarfed down the remained of his lunch.

“Okay…but you know you’re gonna have to start spending a little on yourself. You can’t be working this hard to just be forking out money to pay your siblings’ debts all the time.” She then got up and returned to the nurses’ station across the hall.

“Fuck…I really need to fuck someone soon.” He muttered to the empty room.

***

Ian could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage as he jumped from one foot to the other. There was the usual comforting sound of his teammates howling and chattering pre game. It had been weeks since Ian had visited the clinic and had protested to Dr Lance that he should be pushing himself instead of pulling back. Ian knew he should feel guilty but he couldn’t. Not when he had made it to this moment. There was always a different kind of energy before the first playoff game. The mood they set from the moment they stepped onto that shining maple court, would be the mood they carried through until their final game of the playoffs and hopefully crown them the champions. He was nervous as all hell but he squared his shoulders and looked his reflection dead in the eyes. This is what he was made for. To bring the cup home. He looked his red and white uniform up and down once more before shutting his locker and ensuring his team was put together. 

“Ladies! Listen up!” yelled their coach above their shouting. They all quieted down turning in their places to look at the aging man expectedly. “You’ve made it this far. You’ve fought a good fucking fight. Now, you go out their and show those sons of a bitches how much more you CAN fight. Gallagher.” 

All the men turned their captain, looking on with wide eyes full of hope. Ian cleared his throat, “You heard the man. We go out there and we fight harder than we ever had before. We bring this one home. This is our turf. They’re playing in our stadium, our fucking city. There’s no way we’re losing to the goddam fucking Pistons.” All men erupted into a roar at the ferocity laced within Ian’s words. The men began cheering loudly chanting, their theme as they made their way out into the halls to proceed to the court. Ian stopped at the door and looked Coach Platt. The old dark skinned man raised his grey brow at Ian, “You go out there and take those men into the Semis you hear me?”

“You got it, Coach.” Ian smirked feeling his adrenaline course through his veins. He’s gonna take them to more than the semis.

***

Mickey had a fucking hard day. He’d just finished a session with a patient who always seemed to pull at Mickey’s heartstrings. The fifteen year old gymnast who broke both her legs in a car accident caused by a drunk driver had an especially emotional appointment, causing Mickey to feel even more strained and tired than he was already feeling. He’d planned to make it home in time to catch the ends of the first playoffs but right now all Mickey could think of was his bed. He hadn’t had a very relaxing nigt at home in some weeks, either choosing to spend his nights at the gay clubs on the North side in hopes of fucking away the idea of a straight basketball player he knew he couldn’t have. Other nights he found himself working longer hours hoping desperately for a distraction. He didn’t know what it was about the other man that had Mickey’s mind all topsy turvy but he just couldn't shake the redhead off.

Mickey lazily swung his messenger bag across his shoulders and made his way to the exit to head home and finally shower and nap. But as fate would have it, he found himself walking into something he hadn’t revelled in a long time. The complete chaos of the emergency room. The nurses were busy on their feet as they bustled into the trauma room. Because it was a small private clinic, it wasn’t often that they had massive traumas come in. so he stood in the corner of the emergency room taking in the site and feeding off the thrill of the room. No matter how he had chosen the calmer side of medicine. The side where he simply helped people recover, or he accompanied athletes on tours to tend to their injuries. He missed this. The adrenaline rush that would overtake him in his residency. The way his veins pumped with the haste and rush of the situation. The sight of the small tuft of red hair peeking up from the gurney as they directed it into the trauma room was what broke him out of his deep thoughts. He finally registered the insane amount of security trying to do their jobs whilst staying out of the way of the medical staff. He then saw the frantic brunette woman following behind with the biggest brown eyes he had seen. Wearing her fear plainly on her face as she panted and looked around for anyone to just tell her what was going on. She looked familiar and something about her had reminded him of the distant and few memories he had of his mother. Just then he saw Bevin rushing pass him. “Bevin…what the hell is happening?”

“It’s Ian Gallagher…his knee snapped again in the last minutes of the game…it isn’t looking good.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, firstly my apologies if that ending may have upset you. Trust me I’m going somewhere if it I promise.
> 
> So the NBA playoffs is a best of seven elimination tournament. After the NBA regular season, the top 8 teams in each conference (east and west) qualify for the playoffs. The first round is considered the quarterfinals and then the next is the semis and so on. Each round is a best of seven so they have seven games to play where the team who wins at least 4 would qualify for the next round. I hope I explained that properly if not and anyone who really understand basketball thinks I needs to change a few details then feel free to let me know if I wrong. 
> 
> I hope you all loved this chapter as much as I loved writing it. Comments and kudos are always welcomed ♥️


	5. Shhh It's A Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t know why he agreed to stay and keep the almost childlike athlete company in his high, but he did and even though his body was tired, he didn't regret it. He turned over pulling his sheets closer to his body hoping for sleep to take over his body but it didn’t come as soon as he hoped it would. Before he knew it he was sitting up in bed and grabbing at his phone. He couldn’t help but care for the injured man and he doesn’t know why but he had to know he was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a kind of short one. Yesterday was my first day back to school so I was organizing for that. my hope is to at least update this fic once a week. Might me more times depending on what the week itself is like.

It was the last quarter of the first playoffs. Ian could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he alternated on the balls of his feet. Dribbling quickly through the defence of the Pistons. Left, right, turn a 360 and then pursue. It was like some virtual map was being plotted for him while he manoeuvred his way to the Bulls’ basket. He could hear the crowd bursting with excitement as he inched his way closer to the net. He looked for his opening, searching the tops of all the players’ heads to find Casey. He stopped just on the brink of the three-point line and knew there was not enough time to pass the ball to the point guard. This was it, this was his moment to win this game. He felt an odd sense of déjà vu as he rocked from his heals onto his toes. The sound of the crowd, the atmosphere, the sweat dripping down the side of his face, it all made Ian’s heart hammer against his chest. He lifted the ball, tucking his elbow in just like he did in every practice, and then carried through pushing the ball up towards the net. Everything had slowed down as he came back down onto his feet sending a jolt of pain through his body. He felt his knee curl inwards sending him to the floor. That night he never got to see his own score that made them win their first playoffs. The playoffs that would make the Bulls would skimmer through undefeated until they took the Larry O'Brien Championship trophy home. Nor did he get to see his team be deprived of a celebration as they all crowded around him wearing long worried faces and fear in their hearts.

When he came too he could hear the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor just above his head. Déjà vu all over again. The bright lights, the murmured sound of Fiona’s voice in the corner of the room. There was a numbing feeling all over his body as his eyelids grew heavy and his vision was just a soft blur. “Hey…you’re awake, sweet face” Fiona’s voice grew closer heavy with her maternal intonations. He blinked until she was a clear image, hovering over him. All he could focus on was the way her earrings seemed to shine in the fluorescent light and the lighter strands of brown hair had fallen from her ponytail. He looked around as the room turned a little twisty in a weird way. His throat felt dry as he attempted to get a word out.  _ Water _ he attempted but couldn’t make anything other than a muffled croak. It was like Fiona could almost read his mind as she rose the cup of water and a straw to his lips. It felt too cold going down and it barely satisfied him.

“Ian, do you know where you are?” A bright piercing light shone through his eyes, back and forth.

“Hospital.” He barely whispered. He could feel his tongue weighing down in his mouth.

“Ian…sweetie. Do you remember what happened?” His sister asked from his side.

“Did…did we win the game? Did…I get the caramel popcorn after…those are my favourite.” He looked down focused and oddly intrigued by the polka-dot pattern on his disposable gown.

Chuckling softly, Fiona assured him they did in fact win the game but he hadn’t gotten his favourite popcorn. He turned his attention then to Dr Lance, “The fuck is Count Dracula doing in my room?” he asked bewildered by the aging blonde. That elicited a musical chuckle from the corner of the room. Ian’s lazy eyes travelled to the sound as he heard Dr Lance explain he would be high on the pain meds they had given him. But everyone’s attention was ripped from the older doctor when Ian chose this very moment to flirt with the black-haired doctor at the corner of the room, “Hello, gorgeous…I’m Ian.” He flashed his wickedly handsome grin. “Come over here” he pleaded wiggling his eyebrows. When the short doctor made his way over rubbing his lip with his thumb trying to hide his smile, Ian persisted, “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Ian…That’s Dr Milkovich.” Fiona said from the side-lines.

“OOH A DOCTOR…you wanna take care of this patient, doctorrr.” He slurred flirtatiously while his red eyebrows danced on his forehead.

“Pain meds make the other gender turn you on, Gallagher?” Mickey teased.

“Ooooohhh I’m always into cock…and ass…especially ass but shhhhhh it’s a secret.” Ian said despite Fiona trying to stop him.

“Ian…stop, you’re going to regret this when you remember it.” She said despite the smile on her face of how carefree her brother was feeling.

“No, it’s okay…it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone shit…I know what that’s like being gay and keeping it a secret.” He told Fiona softly trying to comfort her that her brother’s secret was still safe.

“My brother-” Fiona stopped then as Mickey brought a hand up rubbing at her shoulder for her to relax.

“Seeee, he’s a gentleman…and gay. Do you like to stick it in? Or you like it being stuck into you?” he giddily laughed at himself like a five-year-old before whispering loudly, “I like to stick it in.”

“Okay…that’s my cue to leave. Dr Milkovich…Fiona.” He called as he turned to make his way out of the room, “I’ll come by in the morning when the meds have worn down to explain to him. Mickey...you coming?”

“Whatttttt?? NOOOOO, Don’t leave meeee” Ian whaled from his place on the bed reaching out to grip Mickey’s wrist. The doctor’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline at the contact as Fiona tried to apologize.

“Uh…you go ahead Kurt, I’ll stick around with Freckles here…until he falls back asleep.” Ian could feel himself grow happy at the sound of that and he couldn’t help his face from turning a colour not too far off from his own hair.

“See Fi…he loves me.” He contently smiled as the doctor took a seat next to him.

“I’m really sorry about this, I can’t imagine how we’ve already spoilt your Friday night,” Fiona apologized as Ian mindlessly traced his fingers over the band aids on Mickey’s fingers.

“It’s fine. Not like I had anything better to do, huh?” he said patting Ian’s hand. “You could take a break you know…I’m fine staying for a bit.”

“I couldn’t do you that. What kind of sister would I be if I left him huh?” she said, her big brown eyes heavy with fatigue.

“We’re not strangers…we did have a smoke together the other day not so, Tough Guy?” he asked bringing Ian’s attention away from his fingers. His green eyes grew wide at the memory as he squealed, “YES! Fi…this is the guy. I told you about him.” He whispered too loudly failing to tell his secret. Fiona wore the realization all over her face making Mickey want to know just exactly what the redhead had told his sister. “Did you hear that, Fi? I’m his Tough Guy.” He smiled a contented smile before asking Mickey why he had his fingers wrapped up in bandages. Fiona tucked her feet beneath her because she could tell this was going to be a longer night than it already was.

***

Mickey hadn’t planned on spending his entire Friday night until the early hours of Saturday morning helping Dr Lance in the operating room putting back together, quite literally, a million dollar knee. But that’s exactly what he had done. And after standing on his feet for hours under the bright fluorescent lights he sat beside the basketball player’s bed, per request a very woozy redhead who couldn’t top yammering on until he had fallen back asleep. Mickey left the private hospital just after 2:00 am and dragged his feet up to his apartment. He’d thoughtlessly climbed into the shower, then brushed his teeth all before slipping under his covers with an extreme exhaustion creeping in his bones. However, despite how tired his body really was, his mind was awake. His mind kept conjuring up thoughts of a scared redhead who was groaning in pain just before they put him under the anesthesia.  _ Please. Please let me play again.  _ The man had suddenly seemed small in Mickey’s eyesight laying on that bed beggin Dr Lance. 

He doesn’t know why he agreed to stay and keep the almost childlike athlete company in his high, but he did and even though his body was tired, he didn't regret it. He turned over pulling his sheets closer to his body hoping for sleep to take over his body but it didn’t come as soon as he hoped it would. Before he knew it he was sitting up in bed and grabbing at his phone. He couldn’t help but care for the injured man and he doesn’t know why but he had to know he was okay.

** _Mickey: _ ** _ Got home in one piece. Checking in. how is he doing?  _

He hadn’t even bothered specifying who he was talking about, he just hoped his friend knew.

** _Jackie: _ ** _ Woke up not long after you left. Not as high on the pain meds. His sister broke the news to him about his knee. He didn’t take it well. They sedated him. _

Mickey sighed, feeling his heart clench at the redhead’s heartache. He had to keep reminding himself that he doesn’t actually know the other man, but he still cares. His phone buzzed again with another message.

** _Jackie: _ ** _ See you in the morning. Get rest. _

Both Jackie and Mickey knew he didn’t work in the morning but they were both positive he’d be there.


	6. Some Piece Of Southside Trash That Got A Lucky Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey:  
Mickey didn’t realize the traffic light turned green until the man behind starts honking his horn. He stepped on the gas before letting his mind settle on the athlete. He really couldn’t tell why the athlete was taking up so much of his thinking time but a little part of him was hoping that he’d get the call the help the other man out. 
> 
> Ian:  
He stared distractedly as the glowing lights of towers and the hospital a couple blocks away. His thumb flicked the corner of the crumpled call card that he’d been holding in his hand since Fiona had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is chapter 6.   
Chapter summary is two excerpts from both their POVs  
I hope to update this again on Tuesday but we'll see how it goes. Hope you all are enjoying this story. i Know it may seem a bit slow but i wanted to take my time and really develop them in the AU and let you get a feel of who they are. Also it may seem weird that Ian calls Mickey 'Mikhailo' but its simply because that's what is one Mickey's call card and he hasn't gotten to really know Mickey yet.

The first two weeks that followed his surgery were the hardest for Fiona. She had resorted to sleeping in his guest room on the North side trying her best to be there for him, while juggling her own job and caring for their youngest sibling. Her greatest fear was that the set back would send him into a downward spiral, so she stuck around as much as she could. She woke him up everyday s and made sure he took his medication, make sure he ate something, made sure he got into his wheelchair and got some fresh air. She had grown completely exhausted over the week, but she knew she wouldn’t have it any other way. It was at the second week of constant care and supervision that he had snapped at her. She knew her brother better than anyone else and she knew then that it was her time to lay off. So, she stopped sleeping over. She took the L to and from his penthouse every day.

She was bent over scrubbing at the stainless steel of the stove when she heard the clicking of his wheelchair. She looked over her shoulder to see him wheeling himself out of the bedroom, “We barely ever use that stove…why are you cleaning it?” he asked.

“Well…the place needed a little cleaning so I,” her sentence trailed off as she reached into the microwave and took out the lunch she had prepared for him, “Come sit, eat.” He wheeled himself over to the couch where he stopped and took the bowl from her with the same empty look in his eyes. When she moved to busy herself once again at the stove he gripped her wrist in his, forcing her to turn back. 

“Thanks,” he whispered and then let go turning his eyes to his bowl. There it was. Her brother that had been locked away in recluse of his sadness. It wasn’t a low of his bipolar disorder, she’d know if it was, it was just the weight of the doctor’s words that had made him sad and disappointed.  _ You may never get to play Basketball again. We have to see how therapy works. _

“Hey Fi…can you get me to ice pack…it’s a little swollen,” he asked as he ate his lunch and listened to her bustling around. When she came back and sat on the coffee table to remove the brace to put the ice on it she looked at him carefully.

“Are you okay?” he asked her surprisingly. They hadn’t talked much since he had come home from the hospital.

“Yeah…I’m doing fine,” she said, shrugging and forcing a smile to stretch across her tired face.

“Come on Fiona…I’m not that fragile.”

“Jason and I are kind of on a break.” She then said, “He was upset that I wasn’t ready to leave Liam to move in with him but I easily left Liam with Debbie to come stay here with you.”

“Fuck…this is my fault. I’ll talk to him.” He hurriedly assured her.

“What?! No…if he can’t tell I’m a family first kind of person he doesn’t know me very well.” They grew silent as she turned to the basket of clothes on the ground and started folding.

“So, are we going to talk about it or are you going to continue pretending like you don’t remember?” she then asked looking up at her brother.

“Talk about what?” he asked around a mouthful of broccoli.

She tried her best to mimic his voice and the slur like he had when he said it, “You wanna take care of this patient, doctorrrrrr?”

Absolute mortification glazed over Ian, “Holy fuck…I was hoping that was just a dream and didn’t really happen but oh god….Oh God! I was going to tell you that I’d want him as my physiotherapist because Kurt insists that he’s the best, but I can’t see him after that,” he hung his head in his hand as the shame settled in.

Fiona reached over playfully knocking his shoulder with the back of her hand, “Oh come on, it isn’t that bad. I’m pretty sure he felt flattered. He didn’t mind one bit.”

The thought had Ian mulling over the night at The Clove and the night in the hospital. There was no doubt now that Mickey knew his well-kept secret. There was this flame of worry that began to ignite in him that the brunette man would disclose what he knew.

Just then there was a knock on the door and Fiona was making her way over to answer. She was rudely greeted by Jensen as he babbled into his cell phone as he pushed past her into the room. She rolled her eyes closing the door and making her way back to her brother.

“I see you’re still here,” Jensen said gesturing to Fiona while he hung up his phone.

“Yes…I am” she said matter of factly.

“Uh, It’s been about ten days right? I think we should start talking about having a physiotherapist come by and see you… just get our minds set on who you want to do the therapy with?” he said as he sat in the single chair away from Ian. Ian’s eyes slowly rise from his bowl of food and looked him over.

“Really? That’s it? No ‘Hey Ian, how are you feeling?’ or ‘Any pain?’, straight to business huh?” he said placing his bowl onto the table beside the couch.

“I’ve been liaising with your doctors, Ian. I know how you’re doing.” Jensen said, glancing at his watch.

“Am I taking up your time? Because you can just go if I am,” Ian rolled his eyes saying.

“No, man come on. They’re just releasing the names of who my company got to manage from the college drafts…sorry I didn’t mean to seem like a douche. I would have come by sooner if Kelly wasn’t up my ass all the time about getting these contracts in.”

Ian relaxed then. He knew Jensen was usually a good guy who meant well. He just had a shitty way of showing it because he took his job way too seriously. Jensen sighed loudly as he rubbed a hand down his face and then patted down his goatee. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay…the pain only comes on at night but I’m dealing. And I already have a physiotherapist that I want…just gotta call him. Fi, the call card is on the fridge, can you get it?”

Fiona came back handing over the call card to Jensen who immediately looked stunned. 

“This isn’t going to work. I’ve got some of the best guys lined up for you to meet. We need someone with a good name around here. This guy’s just some piece of Southside trash that got a lucky break…it doesn’t mean he’s good and-”

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?” Ian straightened up, bristled with the immediate urge to defend his and the black haired doctor’s Southsidian roots.

“Come on man…I didn’t mean it like that.” Jensen said, though he had stiffened under the athlete's glare at the realisation of what had just left his own mouth.

“Yeah you fucking did…the only reason I’m not yelling that you’re fired right now is because I know I am under contract with you. So just go…leave and come back when you get your head out of your ass!” Ian then pulled his wheelchair back and headed straight for the bedroom.

Jensen shook his head as he got up and walked to the doorway, “You know…I’ve been waiting about six years to tell you this but I guess now is a good time…You’re a real dick. Dr Milkovich happens to be a really fucking good doctor who helped put that boy’s knee back together, if you cared to visit or to do your research without branding us Southside trash, you would know. Aren’t you from fucking Delaware?”

“Y-yeah” he stammered obviously intimidated by the brunette woman cornering him to the door.

“Right, well not all of us are lucky to live the yuppy, trust fund fueled lives. So, get the fuck out of here and bet your last fucking dollar that I’m getting Ian’s lawyer to look over his contract with you, dumbass.” And with that, she slammed the door in his face.

***

Mickey knew he had been distracted for the last two weeks. He still did his job the best he could, but he wasn’t the regular Mickey. He wasn’t hanging out at clubs with Mandy and Jackie for the last two Friday nights and he definitely seemed to be really ‘in his head’. It was a late Monday night when he shrugged out of his white lab coat before hanging it on its hook in the doctor’s lounge. He grabbed the back of his sweaty navy blue scrubs top and pulled it over his head. He slipped into a soft grey henley and then yanked the scrubs bottoms off and replaced it with his black jeans. He’s tired, even for a Monday morning and his body felt drained and sore even. He had long therapy sessions that day with one of his patients collapsing with a seizure during a set of pull ups. He sighed loudly as he pulled his jacket on and slung his bag over his shoulder. He stuffed his pager into his pocket before looking down at his phone. 

He had been thinking a lot of the redheaded athlete from two weeks before, and even though he knew it wasn’t professional he sneaked Ian’s contact from his file because he was hoping he’d psych up the nerve to call. He had never felt this kind of worry for a patient before but he chalked it up to a tiny crush and the fact that he felt special for knowing the athlete’s secret. He shoved the phone into his pocket after deciding it was weird, creepy and extremely unprofessional for him to call Ian. 

At that point in the day, Mickey just desperately wanted to get home, drink a beer and collapse into his mattress and enjoy his day off the next day. On his way out, he stopped at the nurses station to bid Jackie and Bevin a good shift. 

“Dr Milkovich, how much of a coincidence that we’re getting off shift at the same time. This almost never happens. I guess it’s because I switched shifts this week,” a short blonde preppy nurse babbled while Mickey signed one last thing Jackie needed. He looked up, as he dropped the pen, at the obviously flirting girl and snorted quietly. He couldn’t remember her name in the moment but he knew she was fairly new.

“Do you wanna maybe get a few drinks and I don’t know, maybe hang out a bit?” the girl had obviously been wanting to do this before and Mickey actually felt bad that the moment she built the nerve to do it he had to let her down, “so..what do you say?”

Mickey looked around a bit and he glanced at Jackie who seemed amused, “Uhh…”

“Delilah,” she said, obviously disappointed the doctor didn’t even know her name.

“Delilah… right...I’m sorry. I don’t mean to assume here but you’re asking me out on a date, right?”

She slowly nodded her head as he face turned a deep shade of red.

“Right...I’m gay...so that’s not really gonna work out, but if you still wanna catch drinks that’s fine just not tonight, right?”

“Oh...it’s fine. Sure. I get it. I...I-I’ll see you around. Bye,” the girl quickly turned on her heels walking away. 

“You could have at least waited until she bought you the drinks to let her down.” Jackie said. Mickey flipped her off before heading out to the parking lot. He hated when that shit happened to him. He wasn’t actually a bad guy and he felt bad when the women who propositioned him felt embarrassed and rejected but he couldn’t help what he was. 

As he sat in his car mulling over what had happened and thinking that the next day he was at work he should definitely apologize if Delilah felt embarrassed, he turned the engine over causing the car and the radio to roar to life. Mickey quickly zoned out the sounds as his car peeled out of the wet car park and on its way home. 

“_...Gallagher’s resilient_.” he happened to catch the ending of the radio announcer’s sentence.

“_That’s right Chris. The last time this happened he bounced back quicker than anyone had ever expected him too. And a lot of people would say you owe it to his doctors and physiotherapists for how well he did_.” the other announcer said.

“_Yes, I think the doctors, play a major role in that. From the reports that I’ve seen, his team is currently on the look out for a new physiotherapist and all the fans want to know exactly who it is will get the job of training Gallagher and his million dollar knee. And the question remains. Will he be able to play in the next NBA?_”

Mickey didn’t realize the traffic light turned green until the man behind starts honking his horn. He stepped on the gas before letting his mind settle on the athlete. He really couldn’t tell why the athlete was taking up so much of his thinking time but a little part of him was hoping that he’d get the call to help the other man out. 

***

Ian sat stiffly in his wheelchair that he had rolled toward the large window that spread across the expanse of the living room wall giving him a spectacular view of the city. He stared distractedly as the glowing lights of towers and the hospital a couple blocks away. His thumb flicked the corner of the crumpled call card that he’d been holding in his hand since Fiona had left. He had wheeled his chair out of his room to see his sister on her way out of his home when he’d seen the call card lying on the floor where Jensen had dropped it. After struggling to reach over to get it without falling out of his chair he rolled toward the window where he’d been contemplating if he should make the call. 

He knew Dr Lance wouldn’t joke about Dr Milkovich being the best, but even Ian knew if he called the young doctor that, his skills wouldn’t be the only reason he’d be calling him for. He sighed as he ran a hand over his face. He’s been thinking of the other man since that night weeks ago at the Cove and he couldn’t even say why. It wasn’t the first time Ian had been tempted by a ridiculously gorgeous man who was equally as gay as he was. But usually when he walked away, without giving in to the temptation, he easily forgot about the other person until he saw another good looking man who made staying in the closest hard to do. This time though, it had been weeks, and now that Ian knows the ‘dreams’ of being in the hospital and openly flirting with the doctor wasn’t just a dream, Ian couldn't help but find it endearing that the other man had sat for hours beside him telling him jokes and answering his ridiculous questions until Ian felt tired again and fell into a slumber. He looked down at the card letting his finger trace of the name  _ Mikhailo. _ He knows the safest thing to do would be to call another doctor, maybe one of the international doctors Jensen insists is so good. Of course Ian wasn’t planning to hire the guy just to advance on him, but this guy was the only person who knew Ian’s secret despite his siblings and Dr Lance. Maybe Ian was hoping to find a friend in the other man after seeing how caring he could be. Ian rolled over to the fridge where he pinned the card under a magnet before heading to bed, knowing he’d be calling Mikhailo in the morning. Maybe Ian was tired of playing everything safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always welcome. I am open to hearing your suggestions or thoughts.


	7. We Start Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian nodded, preparing himself for the pain as he put his arms to rest behind his head. “Just let me know when you’re ready,” Mickey said, as Ian was fighting his hardest to not pay attention to where the other man’s hands rested on his bare skin right where his basketball shorts ended. He nodded when he felt like he had steeled himself enough, or as much as he was capable of doing. It was difficult and the tension pulling along the underside of his calves and around his knee was painful but he pushed through focusing on the face of the man holding him. He sat up bringing his face awfully close to Mickey’s. Mickey looked at Ian as he came up. His eyes darting briefly to the athlete’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! A little something to maybe cheer up your week, lol idk. 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this story and the pace that i set, i feel like my fics are usually fast pace but it feels good to kind of slow things down a bit. I hope everyone is doing well, I'm super tired and it's only Tuesday but school is already killing me.

Utter embarrassment is what Ian was feeling. He could hear Fiona knocking glasses in the kitchen as he had the most awkward stare off in his life with the black-haired doctor sitting opposite him. But it wasn’t the lingering embarrassment of the things he said to the man when he was hopped up on pain meds, no, it was the fact that all he could imagine as he looked at the man, was bending him over any counter, couch or desk in his penthouse. And you know what Ian Gallagher did when he felt like he didn’t have the upper hand? He’d usually turn the whole construct upside down...so that’s just what he did. He lifted the edge of the heavy carpet of his consciousness and swept it under like it didn’t happen as he found his voice and spoke up, “I must say, I’m glad you could make the time to see us,” he said, just as Fiona came back into the living space with three glasses of water.

“No, it’s not a problem at all. Wouldn’t want some quack touching that knee after Kurt and I spent hours putting back together, now do we?” the doctor asked smiling widely flashing his pearly whites.

“He exudes confidence, I like it,” Ian said smiling at his sister, “So I haven’t met anyone else, I’ve made up my mind I really want you.” 

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up as he too remembered the flirtatious nights that were bouncing around in Ian’s head. “You really want me, huh?” the doctor teased.

Ian grew red all over as he realised his statement, “Not want you like that…unless you weren’t thinking of it like that then – fuck – uh, I’d like you to be my physiotherapist is what I’m asking, I just wanted to meet and know what your plan was.”

Fiona couldn’t help the chuckle and smirk as she listened to her brother stumble over his words. Mickey just smiled, “Dude, relax, I’m just fucking with ya,” he said as fished through his messenger bag for his folder. Ian was immediately surprised at how at ease the doctor seemed in his environment. “So, I looked over all Dr Lance’s notes over the years before and after your first injury. Your first physiotherapist was Dr Alice Benson?”

Ian nodded then, “Yeah.”

“Yeah, she’s good. How come you didn’t go with her again?” Mickey asked looking up from his notes.

“Uh…she liked to yell...a lot.”

Mickey chuckled this melodious sound that made the butterflies flutter in Ian’s stomach. Fuck, he was turning into a thirteen-year-old. “No yelling, duly noted. So, my plan is we start slow. It wouldn’t be as easy as the first time, there’s way more scar tissue now. Therapy is going to be more painful. So, for now, we’ll start with the goal of four to six months to get you back to full capacity and motion range of the knee for walking purposes, everyday activities. You’re looking to get back into the sport, right?”

“Yeah,” Ian answered somewhat captivated with the confidence and beauty the man before him held.

“Okay, after the first four to six months, depending on how well your body responds to the therapy then we can discuss higher level activity like jogging or running and hopefully playing again. But I can't give you a definitive time frame.” Ian’s face fell at the doctor’s words.

Reading him like a book, Mickey saw the look of disappointment. Ian was jolted awake by the electricity radiating out of Mickey’s fingertips as he felt the man place a hand on his healthy knee. “Hey, no sad puppy dog eyes. I don’t like to tell people  _ You may never play again. _ I like to tell them  _ Let’s see if we can get you to play again. _ Look, we set a goal and we work towards it. The surgery you went through is the easiest one to come out of, but you had to go through it twice it’s just going to take longer. And maybe you won’t be exactly like you were before. But I’m pretty hell bent on trying to get you there.”

“Damn, you should have gone into motivational speaking instead.” Ian joked, trying to lighten the evidently tense mood of the room. Then he heard it again, the sound of the man’s laugh and he knew he should not have loved it as much as he did.

“So, you can send me what your schedule is like and I’ll work out a schedule with rest days, heavy days, light days etcetera. I’ll check back in with you to see how well it matches up to yours.”

“Whatever works for you. I’m pretty free recently.” Ian smiled.

“Oh, well in that case, I already made one.” Mickey said taking it out his folder and handing it over to Ian.

“Says here, we’d be seeing each other five out of seven days a week?”

“Ah, yeah. Wednesdays and Sundays are your rest days, Tuesdays and Friday are your light days…I uhm colour coded it.” Mickey said blushing under Ian’s gaze at his meticulous behaviour.

“No, I see. It’s neat. Can I keep this?”

“Yes, that’s your copy. There is equipment you would need. Do you have a particular place to do the therapy so I can let the guys at the company come by and install the temporary set up?”

Ian smiled a little then bent his head, “I uh…I know I need equipment. The last time around I may have bought it all instead of renting it.” 

Mickey whistled loudly. “That’s some heavy cash man.”

“Yeah, I feared but figured I might need it again. It's in the gym.” He said gesturing with his head to the closed door.

“Do you mind if I take a look? Make sure you’ve got everything we need?” Mickey asked. Ian lifted the clip on his wheelchair and pulled back. Fiona who had been too silent for his liking waiting behind him as he gestured for Mickey to go before him. She then flashed him a wicked grin as he wheeled himself behind the man.

Fiona slapped him upside the head when she was one hundred percent sure he was checking out the doctor’s ass.

***

“So, let me get this straight, you’re going to be spending five days a week at this guys place for the next four to six months?” Mandy asked around the blunt she had between her lips. Mickey walked over from the kitchen swatting her feet off his new coffee table. “Get your fucking feet off my table, bitch.”

“Jeez, alright!” Mandy relented, “No but seriously though, that’s a lot of time to spend with someone you’ve jerked off to who happens to be gay.”

He shot her a glare, “Does everyone know what I jerk off to? Fuck, can’t a guy have some privacy in his own home?”

“You’re changing the topic. So, how do you think it’s gonna play out?” Mandy asked take a swig of her beer.

“How what is going to play out?” he asked, keeping his eyes away from Mandy.

“You and him, dumbass. He clearly thinks you’re hot from what he said at the club. And after his surgery.”

“One, there is no  _ me and him, _ I’m a fucking professional I know how to keep it in my pants. Two, you’re really making me regret telling you shit.” He grumbled pressing play on the movie in all hopes that he’d shut his little sister up. And that she did when she saw some guy she thought was hot come on the screen. Mickey avoided any more conversation about his new patient though, simply because he knew he had to keep it professional. He could not risk his job and reputation, he was yet to come across anything in life that was worth that price.

It was a Tuesday that Mickey advised they started from, a light day for Ian. Get him into the groove. Ian had answered the door that afternoon oddly chipper. “You ready to get started?” Mickey asked as he set his bag down onto the kitchen counter.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. How long do these sessions last for?”

“Depends, as its your first day we’d go for as long as you can handle and then from then we increase it every other time we meet.” Mickey spun around as he took a sip from his bottled water to see Ian eyeing him…strangely. “What?”

“Uh, nothing. I almost didn’t know what to expect to see you wearing.” 

Mickey glanced down at his black worn out jeans and his dark green Henley, “Uh, I usually just wear whatever I leave the clinic in which is mostly scrubs but I don’t work the clinic on a Tuesday. Come on, let’s go.” He said as he walked past Ian toward the gym area. The man’s ability to ease into the environment and make himself comfortable was oddly attractive causing Ian to ogle a bit.

When they got to the gym area Mickey quickly moved around laying out the yoga mat onto the floor as Ian watched him admirably. He knew this was now his doctor but he couldn’t help himself but appreciate the beauty that was the man before him. “So, I’ll help you down?” Mickey offered as he approached Ian. He slipped his arm under Ian’s right arm as the redhead pushed off the wheelchair. Ian wasn’t oblivious to the close proximity of their faces. And he could feel his heartbeat quickening as Mickey’s warm breath feathered against his cheek..  _ Fuck, Ian. Get it together.  _ When Ian got down to the mat he lay with his two legs outstretched as he sat up. “What now?”

“We’re gonna do a bit of sit ups.”

“Sit ups? Really?”

“Yeah, lie back. I’ll show you.” Ian lay back watching Mickey moved to the side of him hovering over him slightly. “I’m going to hold just above your knees while you do the sit up, this way we can gauge how the tension in your muscles are pulling on the knee. The trick is to not bend your knees on the way back up.”

Ian nodded, preparing himself for the pain as he put his arms to rest behind his head. “Just let me know when you’re ready,” Mickey said, as Ian was fighting his hardest to not pay attention to where the other man’s hands rested on his bare skin right where his basketball shorts ended. He nodded when he felt like he had steeled himself enough, or as much as he was capable of doing. It was difficult and the tension pulling along the underside of his calves and around his knee was painful but he pushed through focusing on the face of the man holding him. He sat up bringing his face awfully close to Mickey’s. Mickey looked at Ian as he came up. His eyes darting briefly to the athlete’s lips. Then he pulled back letting go his legs, “You see? Now you can rate the pain you felt…honestly. Dr Lance said you have a habit of lying when you rate your pain.”

“Dr Lance needs to get a fucking lay that’s what.” Ian muttered, “Out of ten, ten being the worst, I’d say a five.”

“You’re not fond of Lance, huh? Me neither, the guy acts like he’s got a stick up his ass all the time. And not the good kind.” Mickey said jokingly then quickly acted like he hadn’t said such an inappropriate thing, “Five isn’t bad for your first day. Let’s do a couple more and then we can move on.”

And they did, they moved through small sets of five with every easy exercise Mickey instructed. There wasn’t much talking between the two but Mickey noticed the way the redhead looked at him. He forced himself to forget it and focus on the work at hand. He kept reminding himself that he was a doctor, this was his patient. He needed to stop sneaking glances at the way the younger man’s muscles flexed the way they did and the way his breath hitched whenever Ian’s skin touched his. Damn he knew he’d need the coldest shower when he got home. It wasn’t long until the twenty minutes session was up as he noticed slight swelling on Ian’s knee.

“Do you have ice packs?” he asked as they moved out of the gym and Ian rolled the wheelchair behind him.

“Yeah freezer. But you don’t have to-” Ian quickly cut off his sentence as he saw the brunette move towards the freezer to get the ice pack. “There’s a lot to drink there. Help yourself.” Ian called.

Mickey grabbed two Gatorades from the fridge handing one to Ian and then moved to gently place the pack against the swollen skin. “Keep it iced until it goes down.” 

“Thank you, Dr Milkovich.” 

“Please, call me Mickey.”Mickey moved putting his belongings into his bag. He could feel Ian looking at him like he needed to say something, he turned on his heels then, “We’re going to spend a lot of time in each other’s company. We could do it the awkward way like you staring at the back of my head, pretending you never said the things you did or you can say what’s on your mind, maybe we can be friends?” he spoke calmly trying his best not to lay it on thick like he was angry. The guy kept looking.

“Uh, okay. Friends sounds good.” Ian said. “I was kind of hoping you didn’t remember the things I said after my surgery,”

“Don’t remember? How could I forget? Easily one of my more memorable nights at the clinic.” He teased.

Ian’s face brightened red as he hung his head low fighting a smile of embarrassment, “Right. Uh, I may have said some really personal things. And I was wondering if you could maybe not-”

“Stop right there, man, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m not telling anyone.” Mickey reassured as he slipped his hoodie on.

“Really? That’s a million-dollar story, I know most people would jump at that.”

“I’m not most people…Look, I get it.” Mickey said slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“So, you won’t tell anyone?” Ian asked skeptically.

“Not my story to tell.” He then turned heading toward the door, “I’ll see you Thursday.” He was almost halfway to the door when he turned back digging in his pocket. “Uh the number you called me on is the clinic’s line. Here’s my cell, just in any case…you may need it.” he said pulling a call card from his pocket and a pen from his bag. Handing it over to Ian he gave him a soft smile.

“Is this your way of slyly giving me your phone number?” Ian teased wiggling his eyebrows, finding some odd confidence in the man’s promise to keep his secret.

“Nah, man if I was coming onto you…you’d know. Friends, right?” he said as he walked out the door letting it close shut behind him. Ian sat there in the middle of his foyer thumbing at the slanted pen strokes indenting the card.


	8. Even Out The Field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, everyone just thinks that physiotherapy is healing the body. But the body can't heal if the mind is distracted,” Mickey said moving to sit on a weight bench directly opposite to where Ian sat in his wheelchair.
> 
> The redhead sighed, slumping his shoulders. “How much did you hear?” Ian asked, looking at his hands in his lap.
> 
> “Enough,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promised I’d update this today. Ended up being a little later than I intended to though because I was being a lazy shit all day. Plus it’s so fucking hot these days I could have barely concentrated all day.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter. A little naughty Ian tsk tsk and the boys get to know each other a little bit better. 
> 
> ♥️ Happy reading

The two men fell easily into a pattern. Mickey came by on scheduled days and they worked through the routines Mickey had planned. Ian could feel himself being drawn in by Mickey But he couldn’t comprehend why exactly that was. Here they were spending so much of their time together, but yet he didn’t really know much about the other man. They never talked much about anything personal. Just the small sports talk here and there to fill in the empty silence that would hold as they carried through the therapy. The lingering glances and eyes meeting only to dart away from the beauty they beheld, didn’t go unnoticed by the two men but damned they’d be if they ever brought it up. Ian didn’t know how it happened but somehow, he found himself lying in bed at 2 am thinking about the man who was due to his apartment in exactly twelve hours. The night hadn’t started out like that. His older brother Lip had not too long left after helping him in the bathroom, a thing that Ian hated the most. He had settled onto his bed in the quiet of his apartment breathing in slow breaths in and out in an attempt to falling a deep slumber but he couldn’t shake the thoughts swirling around in his mind.

He thought about how long he’d have to depend on his family, how long it would take for them to stop looking at him like he was a cripple. He huffed out the air as the thought of how long it would take for him to get in the bedroom again with another. In his opinion,Ian was as fucking good in the bedroom as he was on a court, it was just a pity that his talents weren’t put to use often. The rare woman in between, and even Ian would admit he was always at the bottom of his game when it came to women. It had been far too long since he had even had sex anyways.

He sighed loudly as he smoothed over his bare chest with his hand. He rubbed over his cold skin, brushing slightly over his left nipple. His breath hitched and he was surprised at the sound, he hadn’t realized how wound up he really was. He slowly moved his hand downward, cupping himself through his boxers. Fuck. Guess his hand would just have to do. He slipped his palm under the waistband of his boxers and took himself into his hand. He tugged slowly trying to draw it out as much as possible. He took a deep breath in and then let out an almost muted grunt. He needed stimulation but his phone was just too far away for him to pull up any kind of porn. He’d just have to let his mind do the magic. 

He pictured toned muscles flexing, small droplets of sweat dripping down as the body rode his cock. “Fuck.” He could see it, soft pink nipples surrounded by pale alabaster skin. Broad shoulders with arms outstretched over his head holding onto the headboard. He tightened his grip on his erection, pumping himself at a steady rhythm. He could almost hear the beautiful sounds being elicited from the man above him. Loud drawn out groans being emitted above his ear while hot breath fanned across his face. 

He thought about thick thighs contracting, flexing as it worked to manoeuvre the man up and down. Ian could feel himself grow closer to his release. He took in a deep breath as he conjured up more images to push him over the edge. Lips. Pink soft pillows, plump, swollen, wet. He’d nip at the man’s throat. He wanted to pull every moan and grunt from the Adonis above him. Blue eyes piercing, heavy lidded and filled with lust and passion. Just then he saw the hair, raven strands falling forward unto the man’s forehead as sweat dripped down slowly. He wanted to lick every drop off as he thrusted upwards. And then his mind automatically pieced together every facial feature just as the fire grew larger and he was shoved over the edge, “Fuck” he moaned spilling onto himself, coating his hand in warm white spurts. His chest was heaving as he came down from his high. As his vision began to clear, he froze. _ Fuck! _ ...he did not just jerk off to his doctor.

***

Mickey stepped into the warm air of the modern hotel he had been coming to for a week and a half now. He clung to his messenger bag as he waved politely to the brunette girl sitting at the front desk, “Dr Milkovich.” She greeted as he made his way to the elevator. Mickey had been spending time at the redhead’s penthouse and though one would think the more time he spent there the easier it would be, it really wasn’t. Every time he stepped foot into the hotel, could feel himself getting more nervous than the last time. He didn’t have a few butterflies in his stomach anymore, he was now breeding a fucking monarch. He scratched his forehead as he pressed the bell at the door, because only a bourgeois place like this would have a door bell at a fucking apartment, scratch that, penthouse. The door opened shortly after and Mickey was greeted by familiar brown eyes. “Dr Milkovich,” Fiona called moving to the side for him to enter.

“Please, we’ll be seeing so much of each other, call me Mickey.” He said as he turned on his heels to look at her.

She nodded smiling, “Okay, Mickey. Ian told me that therapy is going well.”

“Yeah, it is. He’s doing well. Coping really good considering…” he let his words trail out, never really knowing how to gauge a family on the patient’s mental health.

“Considering his bipolar disorder? You don’t have to be cautious, we don’t hide it.” She said, rubbing his shoulder as they walked further into the room.

“Right, well I read through his records. There are notes from his previous doctors on how to notice when he might have an episode but from what I’ve observed, he is doing well.” He smiled.

“You can go on in, he’s just finishing up with his manager, they should be all done by now. I was just leaving anyways. Have fun.” She smiled in a way Mickey couldn’t quite understand, almost like she knew the promiscuous deeds he had been up to thinking about the redhead the night before. Little did Mickey know that the guy was doing the same thing.

As he drew closer to the gym just down the corridor, he could hear Ian’s voice grow a bit louder with frustration, “I’m just not ready for that yet, Jensen,” the athlete's voice spat out.

A rough voice, still fighting to remain soft spoke then, “Come on, Ian. You and I both know that making an appearance would do well for us. Your sponsors who haven’t dropped you would like to know that you didn’t fall off the face of the earth.”

“No, Jensen, I didn’t fall off the face of the fucking earth. My fucking knee snapped only a couple weeks ago. What are you expecting? For me to just show up and act like nothing's wrong? I can’t even fucking walk. My answer is no. You can let yourself out. Mickey will be here in a bit.”

“Mickey? So you and the Southie have bonded or some shit?” Mickey could hear the other man was trying to tease Ian or make a joke in order to lighten the mood but Ian wasn’t having it.

“Just get the fuck out, Jensen.”

“Okay, I’m going,” Mickey then heard some shuffling and considered if he should hide so he wouldn’t get caught eavesdropping but then the voice spoke again, “You should call Annabeth, she’s been asking for you. She cares about you. Maybe you should let her be there for you,” Mickey took in a breath of air as he started walking toward the gym as the door opened and a tall blond in a crisp navy blue suit came sautering out. Mickey nodded his head in respect while the guy all but scoffed in his direction. Mickey stopped in the doorway as he caught sight of Ian sitting in the middle of the room with his head in his hands. The athlete sighed heavily before attempting to shake the emotion from his body and then looked up to see Mickey standing in the doorway. He moved around a weight bench in his wheelchair, “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Mickey smiled as he set his bag down. 

“Did Fi leave?” He asked casually.

“I think so. You ready?” Mickey asked moving to the shelf that Ian kept his equipment on to get what they needed. He didn’t want to give any indication that he had heard the conversation the athlete had just had with his manager but he couldn’t help but notice the look Ian had in his eyes, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What are we doing today?” Ian asked, rolling himself closer to the brunette man. 

“You know, everyone just thinks that physiotherapy is healing the body. But the body can't heal if the mind is distracted,” Mickey said moving to sit on a weight bench directly opposite to where Ian sat in his wheelchair.

The redhead sighed, slumping his shoulders. “How much did you hear?” Ian asked, looking at his hands in his lap.

“Enough,” Mickey said steadying his own elbows on his knees, “I usually suggest that when my patients begin long periods of therapy, that they also consider seeing a psychiatrist, just to balance everything. Have an all-round healing. Considering your...situation, I think it’s time we start considering that.”

“Which part of my situation? You mean the part where I’m actually crazy in the head or the part that I’m a closted athlete who’s forced to stay in the closet.” Ian laughed sardonically.

Mickey reached out and placed a hand on Ian’s knee without really thinking, “Both. Also, If you ever need to talk about anything that might be weighing down on you. You could talk to me. I can’t have you distracted during any of these sessions, you could get hurt even worse than you already are.”

Ian smiled softly as he nodded his head, “Thanks. So, what are we doing today?”

“Today we’re going to try to see how much range your knee has. Rotations. And then work out your upper body a little bit.”

“Upper body?” Ian asked confused.

“Yeah. As I said, physiotherapy isn’t just about the one part that is damaged. It’s about getting your body to heal as a whole and get you back to where you used to be.”

“Okay…” They got situated after and started their work for the day. Mickey thought he had noticed Ian’s face looking slightly paler than usual but when he inquired, the athlete brushed it off as not getting much sun. Mickey knew better than to push his patients. He never wanted them to break down in front of him. 

It was halfway through their rep of gentle rotations did Ian break the comfortable silence that always seemed to settle around them, “So tell me something personal,” he commented.

“What?” Mickey asked taken aback when the athlete spoke.

“Well you know something about me that I really don’t tell people. So tell me something about you.”

“Technically, I know a lot of things about you that you wouldn’t usually tell people.” Mickey said.

“What?” Ian asked seriously.

“Medical records man.” He could feel Ian’s thigh tense below his hand and he looked up just then to see the redhead man struggle to catch a grasp back on his confidence.

“All the more reason for you to tell me something. Even out the field?”

“Uhh, Okay…” Mickey then racked his brain trying to figure out what he could tell the other man, “I really like banana pancakes.” Mickey shrugged unable to let his mind wander from his hungry stomach. And just on cue his belly rumbled.

“Are you really trying to get into my pants by using the breakfast line on me, Doctor?” Ian asked his eyebrows raising.

Mickey’s eyes widened in fear that he may have stepped out of as he rummaged his unconscious recalling times he actually did use that as a pick up line. And internally cursing at himself for saying it. Ian saw the tense shocked expression on the doctor’s face and carefully retracted his own pick up line. “Dude, I’m just fucking with ya,” he laughed.

Mickey let out a nervous laugh, “Not funny, asshole. I could get in real trouble for that.” 

“For what? Coming on to a patient?”

“Yeah. I think so. I guess it depends on if the patient is offended and reports it. But also it just isn’t...professional.” He casually said as Ian huffed a breath and moved to lower his leg slowly to the right. 

“Well for one I wouldn’t complain, nor would I feel offended.” Ian smiled. Mickey could only find himself enough time to smile before Ian yells out and his back collapses against the floor. “Ian? What’s wrong, where’s the pain?” Mickey asked assessing the younger man. “Cramp.” Ian managed out pointing to his thigh. Mickey then moved pulling out Ian’s leg slowly stretching it but the sharp hitch of Ian’s breath proved his knee hurt to much to stretch the entire leg out. Mickey then moved to the side of Ian placing his hand on both sides of Ian’s thigh as he squeezed. He dug his thumbs in, massaging at the tensed muscles trying his best to relax them.

“What are you-” Ian started asking.

“You can’t stretch the leg because of you knee. I’m just massaging it.” He pressed into the skin trying his hardest to ignore the way Ian’s skin suddenly felt warm beneath him. He tried to not pay close attention to the way Ian was breathing, the little grunts he let loose, his chest heaving up and down. Mickey tried his very best to ignore the growing he could see in Ian’s tightening crotch. He looked away. The redhead realising his predicament hit the back of Mickey’s hand telling him he was all good and he brought his upper body up to conceal the boner he was now sporting but he knew it was too late.

“Sorry.” He almost whispered.

“It’s-it’s all good. It’s not uncommon. You’re cramping, means you need to eat and rehydrate. Maybe we should call it for the day.” Mickey said getting up and putting his arms below Ian’s shoulder to pull him up into his wheelchair. Ian could feel a little bit of awkwardness descend on them. 

“I really am sorry,” Ian said quietly as he shifted in his chair and Mickey began packing away any equipment they may have used.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

He rolled out behind Mickey into the living room.

“Uh looks like your sister had the right idea.” Mickey laughed as he spotted the two large pizzas on the counter.

When Ian saw them he immediately laughed, his sister knew damn well he couldn’t eat two large pizzas. Mickey moved to walk to the door when Ian called behind him. “You want to stay? Have pizza?”

Mickey turned back with a humble smile, “I really couldn’t.”

“Come on man. I eat a lot but not that much. Open the top one, if I know my sister as well as I do the Hawaiian pizza has a post it note inside,” he watched as Mickey moved behind the counter and flipped the pizza box open. He grinned, “I guess you really do know her then. But uh…I’m not sure you wanted me to see this.”

Ian’s face suddenly filled with fear as he rolled toward Mickey who held the note out to him. “ _ Ian. Dinner -Your Favourite, plus a Pepperoni for your guest. Bought beer, offer him some. None for you on your meds!! Make friends…and stop eyeing his ass. _ ” Ian could have died there and then of embarrassment. He hung his head into his hands covering his reddening face. He was going to kill Fiona.

“Fuck. Sorry, I didn’t know she’d write that. I’d understand if you want to just get the fuck out of here now.” Ian said.

“What? There’s a whole pizza bought just for me…now that I know I’m not imposing, I’m gonna eat this.” Mickey said completely letting himself feel at home as he opened the cabinet behind him to get two plates.

“You’re not offended?” Ian asked skeptically.

“What that you stare at my ass? Like you’re doing now?” Mickey asked as he bent into the fridge to get something to drink. Ian’s response time slowed down as he admired the man getting comfortable. “Dude, I know you stare at my ass, you’ve been doing it since I walked in on you at the clinic. It’s not news. Besides I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“Really?” Ian asked referring to Mickey know he looked at his ass.

“Yeah, I’m not vain but even I know it’s a good ass.” He grinned, his eyebrows wiggling causing the athlete to laugh.

“I meant ‘really’ as in you know I looked at your ass?”

“What kind of gay man would I be if I didn’t know when a guy was looking?” Mickey asked, “man, don’t make it awkward. It’s all good.”

“Okay…I’m glad you decided to stay then,” Ian said as he took the Hawaiian box up and rolled toward the TV where Mickey followed him.

“You are?” Mickey asked as he sat down placing a bottle of juice down in front Ian. And then a beer down for himself.

“Thanks” Ian muttered looking at the juice, “and yeah, I don’t really have much friends yet alone any that I could really be myself around. I know, pathetic right?”

“No, it isn’t. My only friends are one of the nurses I work with and my sister.”

“The black haired chick from the club?” Ian asked vaguely remembering the girl who had walked up to Mickey when he was leaving.

“Yeah.” Ian then put the television on and flipped to the next episode of How I Met Your Mother that he had gotten to, “You ever watched this?” He asked.

“No, don’t really watch sitcoms”

Ian’s jaw dropped, “What?” Mickey asked noticing the way the redhead looked at him like he was an alien.

“You’ve never watched this? What the fuck Mickey? You’re really missing out” he said as he went back to the list to get to the first episode of season one. He wasn’t letting Mickey start in the middle of season 7.

Ian then opened his box to take the first slice of pizza when he heard Mickey scoff.

“What?” Ian asked.

“Hawaiian? Seriously? Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza.” Mickey simply said.

“It does, it tastes so fucking good. You should try it sometime” Ian said before pressing play. They settled into an unexpected night of getting to know each other while eating their favourite food.

It was during the fifth episode that Ian paused the television and offered Mickey another beer. Mickey accepted only he got up himself to retrieve it along with a water for the basketball player, “So uh...do you mind me asking you something personal?” Ian asked as Mickey made his way back to the couch.

“Uh...that depends on if I can answer it,” He said honestly taking a seat once again on the couch where Ian had moved too from his wheelchair.

“You work in a pretty intense, professional environment, right? Does anyone like make it uncomfortable because you’re gay or do they not know?” Ian couldn’t meet his eyes and Mickey could see the redhead had been considering asking the question for some time now. He knew what it felt like to be in the closet and to fear coming out of it.

“Most of them know, I think. Yeah, it was weird at first. Most people are fine with it, but there are some other colleagues who have treated me differently since they found out. I don’t flaunt it but it isn’t a secret and that makes me feel...makes me feel free in a sense.”

Ian nodded his head before running a hand down his face and then looking back to the television, “Can I ask you a personal question?” Mickey asked.

“Sure,” his response was soft but Micky heard it.

“What’s the deal with your manager and getting you to talk to this Annabeth person?”

Ian took in a sharp intake of air as his body visibly tensed, “She...she’s this girl that Jensen set me up with a couple years ago. She’s a dancer at the Cove. He pushed that I should go out with her and sell the story that I can have a beautiful woman on my arm, but still hold the deal that I wouldn't get serious with anyone. He thinks I should stay focused for a couple more years before getting into a serious relationship but he jerks around Annabeth any chance he gets and calls her up and arranges dates and has her escort me to events and shit like that under the pretence that I want her there but then he cuts it short when she wants it to be serious. I kind of feel bad for her if I’m honest.”

“So, she doesn’t know you don’t feel the same?”

“No, I mean it should be obvious right? I’ve never slept with her or any of that shit but I guess Jensen must have told her I can’t get serious, and she’d just waiting for the moment that I can.”

“Yeah, but what happens when that moment comes? Do you come out? Or you keep acting straight?” Mickey asked.

“I don’t know. The sport hasn’t really had much men come out before. I’m..I’m scared it destroys my career.” Mickey could see a little glistening tear in the corner of Ian’s eyes so he drops it there. Ian pressed play and relaxed into the cushions of the couch. 

On his way out later that night he smiled gently in Ian’s direction, “I’m around, if you ever need to talk to someone.”


	9. Let Me Help You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You did it before, and it may have been a little easier then but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it now. You’re strong. You’re stronger than you know. I’ve seen how you push through in every one of these sessions, heck Ian, I’ve seen your file. I know what you’ve faced, and you’re still fucking here, so what’s a little walking, huh? You think you can do that for me? Walk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I uploaded the wrong chapter 😫😫😫😫 What you read before of you read it was supposed to be chapter 10 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 anyways here’s the correct thing

The redhead’s company was something Mickey enjoyed tremendously, it was also something that reeled him in and he couldn’t understand why. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt like he got it. He had remembered the first person he ever came out to who wasn’t Mandy. It was Jackie. And he used to find himself wanting to be in her company rather than tucking himself away in his apartment hiding from who he was. He had felt so free to have someone who wasn’t his family that he could be open with. She and Mandy had made it their mission to get Mickey to adapt to the stereotyped lifestyle of an attractive gay man. They took him to all the gay clubs, and encouraged his sexual promiscuity but most importantly Jackie was the one who told him day in and day out how much he deserved love and deserved to be happy. So that day when he was setting up the railings in Ian’s gym, and Ian blurted out his well awaited question Mickey couldn’t find it in heart to say no to. “So, you wanna hang out again tonight?” Ian asked as he mindlessly picked at the hem of his shorts.

“What you got in mind?” Mickey asked as he rose the railing height.

“Uh, thought you should really get to watch the rest of_ How I Met Your Mother _ Season 1, an-and I tried cooking for the first time since I’ve been home today. Was hoping I’d get someone to see how I did?” Ian never met his eyes, but the brunette doctor could see him blushing. 

“You asking me on a date, Gallagher?” he teased trying to ease the tension from the redhead.

“Uh, no…I don’t think so. I mean if you want it to be-wait…what?” Ian fumbled for words as his eyes met with the crystal blues of Mickey.

Mickey was wearing this false glare, and he could tell Ian was freaking out. Then he cracked the biggest grin, “I’m just messing with you. What did you cook?”

“Lasagne, it’s in the oven keeping warm.” He said his blush returning the colour to his face.

“I love lasagne. I’d love to stay, man. But don’t try to liquor me up and take advantage of me.” Mickey joked as he walked over to Ian, who once again had a pale frantic face. “Again. I’m messing with you.”

“Right! What are we doing today?”

“You, my friend, are gonna walk today.” And for the umpteenth time that day Mickey saw the colour leave Ian’s face. But it wasn’t so easy to bring back this time.

“I-I’m not ready for that. It’s only been four weeks. I can’t,” Ian protested as Mickey came to kneel in front of him. This wasn’t the first time Mickey had seen an athlete breakdown in front of him as they had to face their biggest fear. Walking. Yeah, they all wanted to run, or jump, but to do that all it required learning to walk again. It’s the one thing that would set the pace of their recovery, it’s also the thing that would lower their confidence if they couldn’t make it on the first try.

As he knelt before Ian, the redhead slumped his shoulders down as he buried his face in his hands. And somehow, no matter the countless athletes Mickey had this same moment with, his heart never really broke the way it did when he heard Ian sobbing. He rubbed his hand over the man’s shoulders trying his hardest to comfort him. “Look at me, hey, hey look at me, Ian.”

Ian slowly raised his head, meeting Mickey’s eyes with his red swollen ones. “Look, I know it’s scary as fuck. You think others haven’t faced what you’re facing right now? You’re wrong. So many people have held onto the railings and pulled or pushed themselves up. And you can do that too.” Ian’s eyes fell again to his hands in his lap, but quickly lifted back up to meet Mickey’s when he felt a finger brush his cheekbone. 

“Look at me,” Mickey almost whispered. “You did it before, and it may have been a little easier then but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it now. You’re strong. You’re stronger than you know. I’ve seen how you push through in every one of these sessions, heck Ian, I’ve seen your file. I know what you’ve faced, and you’re still fucking here, so what’s a little walking, huh? You think you can do that for me? Walk?” it was a slow, hesitant nod, but it was there. And although at that moment Mickey should have pulled away like the professional he swore he was, he couldn’t find it in himself to let go the side of Ian’s cheek that he was caressing until he knew the other man was okay. 

His mind told him to pull back and stand up but he couldn’t, his body betrayed him, “You okay now?” he whispered, brushing the tear off Ian’s cheek. 

Ian held his gaze, strong while his voice sounded broken and weak, “Thank you,” he said softly. Why couldn’t Mickey look away? Then Mickey could see Ian’s face drawing closer to his own, his lips too close. And that’s when Mickey knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk it all, not after he had worked too hard. He pushed himself up suddenly and outstretched his hand to help Ian stand. “Come on, lasagne is waiting."

Ian took a solid two steps and Mickey could feel his chest swell with pride. He watched with bated breath as Ian took another and then another and then when he reached his foot forward to take his fifth step, he lost his balance as his knee buckled and he was falling forward and onto the cushioned yoga mat Mickey had laid down. Mickey reacted as quickly as he could and reached his hand out catching Ian’s head before he could hit it against the railing.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked as he helped Ian sit up and against the metal bar.

“Fuck, I can’t even take five fucking steps without falling on my ass,” the athlete groused as he wiped his face into the shoulder of his tshirt.

“Hey, none of that okay? You did good. You did fucking good, Ian. We weren’t expecting you to be able to walk a marathon. Small steps. We handle what you’re capable of doing now, and then we get to the big picture little by little. But you did good. I’m proud of you, Ian,” Mickey said.

Ian bent his head looking down but nodding slightly, “How about we call it a day and go eat that lasagne, huh?” Mickey smiled shaking Ian’s shoulder before standing up and rolling Ian’s wheelchair closer, “Let me help you.”

Mickey slipped his arm under Ian’s holding him around his back and then slid his other arm below Ian’s legs lifting him easily off the ground and onto the chair. Ian turned his face, his breath fanning against Mickey’s cheeks causing the doctor’s skin to flush red before he pulled away to drop the footrest.

Both men settled into an easy silence with Ian rolling around the kitchen to grab his oven mitts before pulling the oven open and taking the dish out to lay it on the kitchen counter. Mickey sat on one of the bar stools observing the redhead move about. Mickey knew Ian was still feeling down after his fall and he couldn’t help the way his eyes followed the other man as he moved around the large kitchen trying to pick up any small sign that would indicate he wasn’t okay. Ian grabbed a knife from a draw and then looked up at the slightly taller than him kitchen counter and the hot dish that was just too high for him to cut. He exasperatedly sighed out of frustration, and looked like he was about to throw the knife across the room. Mickey moved around the kitchen isle and gently took the knife and started cutting the lasagne. Ian paused for a moment looking at the brunette’s back before rolling away towards the refrigerator.

“Do you want a beer or soda?” Ian asked trying his best for his voice to sound steady.

“Soda’s fine.” Mickey said. He grabbed the two plates of food and moved toward the couch where he set them down on the coffee table. Ian quietly rolled towards him with their drinks sitting in his lap. Ian reached over handing the soda off to Mickey when his eyes caught on the flesh coloured band-aids wrapping around each of Mickey’s fingers. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it but he’d never asked until now, “What’s with all the band-aids?”

Mickey paused his motion and looked down at his fingers like he’d only just remembered they were there, “Uh...drunken teenage mistake. Got some fucked up tattoos that just aren’t appropriate for the job,”

“Well, I won’t be offended...I can’t imagine that can be very comfortable.”

“Eh, I’ve gotten accustomed but thanks...I’ll remember that for next time.”

They both sat quietly shovelling down their food into their mouths as _ How I Met Your Mother _ played. 

“This is some good lasagne, man,” Mickey said around a mouthful, “Better than the shit my sister tries to pull of as lasagne.”

Ian chuckled quietly, starting to relax a little bit, “Thank you,” he said softly.

“It’s nothing man. Gotta give credit where it’s due,” Mickey said, letting his eyes settle on the television screen.

“No...I meant for earlier in there,” Ian gestured to the gym, “Thanks.”

Mickey stopped eating as he swallowed and took his eyes off the screen letting them settle on the seemingly nervous redhead, “Anytime.” 

They sat in comfortable silence and watched a couple more episodes until Mickey realised just how late it was getting, “I have to be at the clinic early tomorrow.”

“Thought you didn’t work at the clinic on Wednesdays?” Ian said unaware that he’d taken Mickey by surprised by knowing that kind of information.

“Yeah but one of the other doctors in my department just had a kid, so she’s on maternity leave, figured I’d take up some extra shifts.” Mickey picked his bag up from the counter and turned around to face Ian, “I’ll see on Thursday, okay? Don’t do anything to strenuous tomorrow,” Mickey joked causing Ian to smile gently. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you on Thursday.”

  


***

Ian’s been in this place before. He’s faced the same fears a couple years before when his knee gave out the first time but yet everything about this time was different. For one, the pain was way worse. He spent most of his nights lying in bed putting off the inevitable moment when he’d have to roll over and shake out two pain killers into the palm of his hand and throw them to the back of his throat. This night was no different. It was only a couple hours since Mickey had left his apartment. Ian had settled into his bed for the night under his thick comforter thinking over his therapy session from that day. It’s not like it was the first time Ian had seized up with the fear of walking again or even running, but most times he was usually in the comforts of his bed at night when the anxiety would take over and he’d lay under his blanket until his sobs and shivers subsided. But earlier that day was the first time another person had actually seen how scared Ian was. Ian usually put on a brave face for his family and he knew that Fiona most likely saw through it but she never said anything or asked about it and he never offered that kind of information. 

Mickey was the first person to see how truly scared Ian was and instead of raising his voice or making Ian feel bad about doubting himself, much like Ian’s physiotherapist a couple years before had done, the black haired man had gotten down to Ian’s level and he’d let him know it was okay to be scared but that he could still do it. Mickey’s soft soothing voice had eased the tension embedded in Ian’s muscles and it made Ian feel safe, like he could really do anything. Ian could feel himself falling for the other man but he knew he shouldn’t. He wasn’t out and Mickey was his doctor. There was no possible way that it could work out. But yet his heart wasn’t getting the memo.


	10. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey sat back next to Ian wordlessly and turned the television volume up from being mute but still keeping it quite soft. Ian visibly relaxed letting his eyes fall shut. Mickey breathed in deeply and then out looking down at the man who seemed so much smaller than he usually did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I uploaded the wrong chapter for chapter 9. I uploaded this instead so I corrected the mistake and uploaded chapter 9 so if you didn’t read that go read it. It’s a really crucial bit of info for this one. I’m so mad at myself for messing it up. I really hope no one misses that chapter and goes back to read it. 
> 
> I’m just really busy and tired so I fucked up lol. But in the end you get two chapters out of it in one night lol 😂

He went to work at the clinic and did his other calls but somehow none of them gave him the excitement he got when he rode the elevator up to Ian's room. It was after a long day however when he entered the elevator rubbing his face with his hand. It was probably the first day he wasn't bursting with excitement and he had a strong mind to call and cancel the session but he knew what an unwarranted break would do for a patient's confidence, especially after his and Ian’s last session, so he mustered up all his strength to get him through the next hour. 

When he got to Ian's floor however, he could see the door slightly opened. He pushed it open to find an army green duffle bag sat by the front door, a cell phone and keys resting atop. The sight was strange, Ian always made sure to lock his doors when Mickey left or to unlock them when Mickey arrived. He walked into the space to an eerie whistle of a kettle. He entered the kitchen to find the kettle rattling against the burner. He grabbed at it with bare hands, “Fuck!” He exclaimed as he dropped it into the sink. He turned on his heels and headed straight for the gym. He called out to Ian but got no response. Swinging the gym door open he almost expected to see Ian sitting in his wheelchair waiting for him. But the lights to the gym were off and it was empty as it was silent. He turned frustrated looking into each room as he passed. And then he came to the first room on corridor that he had passed moments ago. This had to be Ian’s room, he turned the doorknob and looked into the darkness of the room and saw nothing. He turned then to storm out when something caught his eye. The lump in the sheets. Stilled but very much there. Fucker must have been sleeping really heavily because Mickey was making a lot of noise. He walked toward the bed then and that’s when he saw his face. His eyes open and staring out the window, but his face emotionless, distant and almost cold.

“Ian? Man, I’ve been calling you. You left the front doormen open and the kettle on the stove,” Nothing. No response. “Ian?” Mickey called again earning him a small mutter from the redhead man.

“What’s that?” Mickey walked closer to the bed and sat beside him. “You okay?” he asked reaching to pull the sheet a bit down so he could see the athlete’s face clearly.

“Leave me alone,” Ian spoke a little louder, his voice nasaled and tired.

“Are you sick? All you had to do was call man. I wouldn’t have come by.”

Ian pulled the sheet down a little and continued staring out the window. Mickey reached him turning on the bedside lamp and that’s when he saw more of Ian’s face. His dark circles, and sad look. Then it clicked to Mickey, “Ian? Are you in any pain?”

“No,” Ian barely whispered.

“Are you sick?”

“No.”

As a doctor you were trained to see the signs. To notice when things were off about your patients and this was one of those moments. Mickey pulled his phone out of his pocket then and dialled the number Fiona had given him.

“_ Hello? _”

“Fiona?”

“_ Speaking…who is this? _”

“Mickey…Dr Milkovich,” he spoke trying his best to not sound frantic because the sight before him was scaring the living shit out of him. He had gotten to know Ian for his flirty smile and corny jokes and this shell of a person just wasn’t him.

“_ Is Ian okay? He’s supposed to be here after your session, will it run late or something? _”

“Uh…I don’t know. He’s in bed, covered and telling me to leave him alone. Found the kettle abandoned on the stove, his bag by the door. But he…I think he’s having an episode Fiona,” he spoke slowly trying to control his nerves and emotions. This was a patient, he wasn’t supposed to be emotional and he couldn’t tell you why he was.

“_ Oh shit, I’m on my way, I’ll be there as soon as I could…can you stay with him until I get there please? _” she asked her voice trembling through the phone.

“Yeah…I’m not going anywhere,” he said in a hushed tone as he watched Ian, “how long til you get here?”

“Fuck about an hour, maybe two with the traffic.”

And so Mickey stayed. He went into the kitchen and he cleaned up whatever it was Ian was doing there before and then he took Ian’s duffle bag back into the bedroom resting it on the chair in the corner of the room. He could feel Ian’s eyes on him as he moved around picking clothes off the floor and putting it into the basket by the door. This was what Mickey did when he got stressed, he looked for the things he could fix and he fixed them because it provided him with some kind of distraction from the real problems at hand. 

When he was sure there was nothing more he could do he sat next to Ian’s limp body on the bed and grabbed the remote for the flat screen tv on the opposite wall. He turned it on to find it logged into Ian’s Netflix account and the next episode of _ How I Met Your Mother _ waiting. He didn’t understand the boys obsession with the show but he somehow found himself liking it. He made sure to make a mental note to one day ask why it was the redhead’s favorite show. He pressed play and watched with the volume as low as possible, just enough for him to hear but not loud enough to frustrate Ian. Absent mindedly his hand reached out to Ian’s shoulder and started rubbing soothingly at the man back that faced him. Mickey was so caught up in the motion of it all and the show itself, he hadn’t realized that Ian relaxed into his touch, or the sound of Fiona’s keys jiggling into the lock until he saw her storming into the bedroom wearing the same worried look he saw at the hospital.

Mickey removed his hand from Ian’s shoulder immediately realizing how the athlete tensed at the loss of contact, got off the bed, pausing the show and moved around to the side Ian was facing. “Ian?” she called but he never so much as glanced at her. Fiona then ran her hand through her curly brown hair as she motioned her head for Mickey to join her in the living room.

“I know that look, that’s definitely an episode,” she looked exasperated as she rubbed her hair back and sighed.

“Okay, what’s your game plan for when it happens?”

“We give him time. A week. Make sure he still takes his pills. If there’s no change we take him to his therapist. Fuck! I should have seen this coming.”

Mickey moved closer taking her shaking hands in his hand, “Hey, hey. There are signs sure. I’ve read through his entire file. I’ve been looking out for those signs. There weren’t any. Sometimes that happens. Breathe. You can’t help him if you’re worked up.”

She nodded taking deep breaths, “I need to call Lip.”

“Lip?”

“Our other brother. I left Liam in the house alone because he has a test early in the morning. I need Lip to go stay with him,” he looked at her call her brother’s number about ten times, each going to voicemail.

“Fiona, go. Go stay with the kid. I’ll stay here with Ian.”

She looked at him then confused and shocked, “I can’t ask you to do that. That’s my brother. I can’t leave him.”

“You also can’t leave a …how old is Liam?”

“Seven.”

“You can’t leave a seven year old kid on his own. From what Ian has told me, you and him might have been okay at home alone at that age but that kid won’t be.”

She sighed loudly, “I can’t leave unless I know Ian is comfortable with that.” She headed back into the room kneeling beside Ian’s bed as Mickey came and stood beside her. “Hey sweet face. Liam’s home alone. Mickey’s offered to stay with you so I can go watch Liam. Is that okay? Ian?” her voice high like a mother trying to convince their kid everything would be okay.

Ian never looked at her, all he muttered was a slurred, “Leave me alone.” Mickey relented at the words that were spoken to him earlier. He turned then, “I’ll go. I’ll call tomorrow and make sure everything is okay?” Mickey spoke to Fiona as she apologetically nodded. As Mickey moved to walk away he felt cold fingers grasp into his wrist. Turning he saw Ian’s pale hands around his wrist. Ian’s face turned to Fiona then as he spoke again, “Leave me alone,” he begged in a whisper. Fiona dumbfoundingly got up from her squat on the floor, she rubbed his shoulder smiling softly, “I’ll be back tomorrow, even if you kick me out then.”

“I’m just going to walk her out. I’m coming back.” Mickey reassured Ian when the younger man gripped Mickey’s wrist tighter. Mickey followed Fiona out to the door as she grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter, “Mickey, do you mind me asking? Is there something going on with you and my brother?”

“What? No…did he say that?” Mickey asked panicked.

“Relax…he didn’t say anything. It’s just that he never lets anyone stay with him when he’s like this. I mean, he usually pushes me away but it’s usually because he clings to one of our brothers. Usually our youngest.”

“Uh…I don’t know.”Mickey contemplates her words carefully.

She nodded still looking at him strangely, “You have my number if anything happens so just call. His pills are in the bathroom cabinet there’s a book with his prescriptions there too.”

“Yeah, Okay.” 

“Just take care of him please.” She said as she walked out closing the door behind her.

Mickey leaned against the door for a brief moment before heading into the kitchen to fill a glass of water. He padded his way back into the bedroom and stood at the doorway taking in the sight of the lump under the sheets. The lump of a man who usually owned a room once he was in it with his laughter and stale jokes. Mickey pulled his phone from his pocket sending a text message to Jackie before going over to the redhead. 

** _Mickey: _ ** _ Hey need a favour. Can you pass by my place and get me a couple things please? Bring it to Ian Gallagher’s place? _

** _Jackie: _ ** _ Spending the night are we? ;) _

** _Mickey: _ ** _ it’s not like that. He’s in bad shape, just do me this favour please and I’ll owe you. _

** _Jackie: _ ** _ Okay sorry. Send me a list and I’ll get it to you. _

Mickey looked down at Ian who had turned toward the middle of the bed now. He took one deep breath in before touching the redhead’s shoulder, “Hey, Ian. Did you take your meds?” He could feel Ian stiffen under his touch before relaxing again as he shook his head. Mickey nodded even though the other man couldn’t see and he made his way to the bathroom to get the pills. 

The little brown leather book that sat in the cabinet drawer were filled with every medication name and dosage Ian had ever had to use with little notes about which ones didn’t work and what his options may be. From the way the writing was scrawled neatly onto the pages Mickey could tell that it was someone who definitely cared to know the details of Ian’s health. Most likely Fiona. He read out the dosage and then found the appropriate bottles shaking the pills out onto a paper towel before heading into the bedroom again. This time he approached from the side of the bed he had been sitting on before Fiona had arrived. He leaned over Ian grabbing the glass of water he’d brought and then got down to eye level holding out the pills. Ian’s green eyes fluttered open as he looked at Mickey. He looked reluctant to say the least but Mickey shook his head.

“You gotta take ‘em.” He whispered. “I can get you a straw to drink the water if you want.” If he wasn’t looking so intently at the other man he would have probably missed how slightly he nodded his head. Mickey places the water and pills on the nightstand before going back out to the kitchen to fetch a straw. When he came back he got onto the bed and held the pills one by one to Ian’s lips. The redhead’s tongue poked out taking each one and then he latched into the straw to drink the water. In any other occasion Mickey might have been turned on by the hot wetness of Ian’s tongue against his fingertips as he took each pill but right now that didn’t matter to him.

For a moment Mickey forgot he was just Ian’s Doctor. He found his hand reaching up to comb through red hair. Ian’s eyes closed as he leaned into the touch. “I’ll leave you to get some rest.” Mickey then said moving off the bed but once again cold fingers gripped his wrist as a straggled “stay” left Ian’s lips. Mickey nodded getting back onto the bed and sitting as still as he could in hope the other man would fall asleep. 

Mickey couldn’t exactly say how he’d gotten in this position but he knew it was because he wanted to be here. He’d known for some time that he was coming to care deeply for the athlete but he didn’t think he’d find himself so intimately situated. His phone buzzed breaking him from his thoughts and evidently jolting Ian if the jump in his body was anything to go by.

** _Jackie: _ ** _ Left your stuff at the desk downstairs, they said someone will bring it up. _

As if on cue the landline was eerily ringing into the silence of the night, “Hello?” Mickey answered quickly.

“Hello, Dr Milkovich? This is Sally from the reception desk. We’re sending up your belongings now. I-is Mr Gallagher okay?”

“Uh Yeah that's fine. Everything is fine.” Mickey said quickly before bidding the woman goodnight before hanging up.

Mickey looked over to see Ian looking intensely at him as a knock sounded in the front door. “My friend dropped some of my stuff off for me.” Mickey said getting up to collect his things. When he got back to the bedroom he saw Ian was still awake and staring at where Mickey was sitting. 

Mickey sat back next to Ian wordlessly and turned the television volume up from being mute but still keeping it quite soft. Ian visibly relaxed letting his eyes fall shut. Mickey breathed in deeply and then out looking down at the man who seemed so much smaller than he usually did. 

One lone tear leaked from Ian’s eyes dripping over his nose bridge. Mickey instinctively brushed the tear away before bringing his hand back to himself. He was so fucking fucked that there was no point in denying it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not bipolar but I have researched this and reached out to a family friend who is and they shared some of their experiences so the next few chapters will focus a bit on that. Hope you like it and again if you didn’t read the chapter where Ian walks for the first time you should go check that which is chapter 9 lol. I messed up my bad 😬


	11. Just Need To Be Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Fiona opened the door, Mickey was back to staring at those big brown doe eyes that he was trying to escape earlier when he left but this time he wasn’t so afraid of the questions they were asking, “Mickey...what are you doing here?”
> 
> Mickey stood in the doorway looking around like someone would fabricate out of thin air and give him the answers he didn’t exactly know. “Uh..I...uh I went home. Realised I couldn’t just sit there. I...I don’t really know why I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So I didn't update this Saturday because I posted two chapters last Tuesday. Gentle reminder (apologies if i sound like a broken record) but if you read chapter 9 last week where Mickey stayed with Ian I made a major mess up and posted chapter 10 as chapter nine so I'd appreciate it if you checked out those two chapters in the case that you may have missed it.
> 
> Thank you for all the love you have been showing this fic i really appreciate it. I know i hardly reply to comments because I'm usually busy and i suck at taking compliments so i hardly know how to respond lol but i appreciate your words so much and it's what encourages me to keep writing.
> 
> warning: this chapter is a little heavy as there is a bit from Ian's POV during his low. Nothing too intense but still.

Mickey returned back home the next morning when Fiona arrived with the same worried look in her eyes surrounded by dark purple circles from the night before. He tried his best to integrate himself into his day off like it was any other but there was really no point in pretending anymore. He most definitely did not want to be there. He was sitting on his couch with the television playing an old rerun of South Park but Mickey wasn’t paying any attention. Instead, he was staring ahead and replaying the night before. His heart clenched with the worry he felt, his leg bouncing nervously as he looked around his quiet apartment. He hadn’t slept the night before. He’d spent most of the night sitting beside Ian as the redhead laid with his eyes closed. When Mickey had made a move to get up and settle onto the couch in the living room in an attempt to get some nightly rest, he’d realised there were thin, freckled fingers gripping the corner of his sweater. He’d remained for awhile longer until he was sure Ian had fallen asleep before prying the man’s hands from his clothing and then settling in the other room. But sleep didn’t come to him as easily as he would have hoped, so instead he found himself getting up ever so often to just stick his head into Ian’s room to make sure he was okay and hadn’t woken up.

When Fiona had arrived the next morning, Mickey had watched the sun rise before heading into the large kitchen and starting coffee. He changed into a fresh sweater from the bag Jackie had brought by and then bid Fiona goodbye after they’d sat and had coffee. He couldn’t bare the intense stare of the eldest Gallagher’s brown doe eyes. So he pushed off his chair and told her he’d call to see how things went.

Now, sitting on his couch after taking a shower and trying to stomach some breakfast, he’d found his apartment too silent, the air was wrong, the sounds of the traffic outside was just wrong. So he stood up and headed into his bedroom where he grabbed his messenger bag off the floor. He started throwing a couple tshirts, a clean pair of jeans and a few of his toiletries into the bag. He looked everything over and paused asking himself what exactly the fuck he was doing but before he could change his mind he headed to the front door where he pulled his coat on and grabbed his keys, wallet and phone. He locked his door and then headed out into the rain trying to convince himself he wasn’t overstepping.

***

When Fiona opened the door, Mickey was back to staring at those big brown doe eyes that he was trying to escape earlier when he left but this time he wasn’t so afraid of the questions they were asking, “Mickey...what are you doing here?”

Mickey stood in the doorway looking around like someone would fabricate out of thin air and give him the answers he didn’t exactly know. “Uh..I...uh I went home. Realised I couldn’t just sit there. I...I don’t really know why I’m here.” 

Her face softened and a small smile came to her lips as she stepped aside and let him into the apartment. “I know what you mean.” she said softly, “So I called Dr Young, Ian’s psychiatrist, she said that Ian had made an appointment for her to come here next week. He didn’t even tell me he did that, but she said that he said it was recommended by his physiotherapist.” Fion tilted her head to the side and she looked on as Mickey threw his bag onto the couch.

“Yeah, it came up in a session but it wasn’t something I was concerned would throw him off, it was just a suggestion,”

“I know, anyways, she said to make sure he keeps taking his pills and see how it goes. She said she’ll change his prescription when she sees him and talks to him, but we should give him some time and see if he comes out of it on his own. He may not need a medication change. Could just be because of all the shit he’s had to deal with. I uh...just thought you’d want to know what she said.” Fiona smiled as she looked at the obviously nervous doctor shuffle on his feet as he looked around apprehensively, “You can go in and see him, you know. He was asleep the last time I checked him.”

Mickey nodded with a sigh of relief as he walked toward the bedroom. He breathed in deeply then out and quietly entered to see Ian was still sleeping. He looked peaceful, his pink lips slightly parted. Mickey knew he cared about Ian, but he didn’t even know why. He didn’t even know what made the man so special to him. But he felt the same feeling in his heart to protect Ian and make sure he’s okay, like he did for his own sister and best friend. The mere thought of Ian hurting, hurts Mickey himself and he just wanted to take away whatever pain Ian could be feeling. 

He wanted to take away that empty stare and restore the light, jovial glimmer that his green eyes usually held. He wanted to hear him laugh again and shoot the shit while he cracked up at his own lame jokes until his cheeks were flushed read and his words couldn’t even come out because he was laughing so much. He slowly backed out of the room shutting it softly as he headed back out into the living room. Fiona was folding laundry while she watched television when he sat beside her. “You care about him, don’t you? And I don’t mean in the usual way doctors do,” she said after a while of staring at his profile.

Mickey looked down at his hands that were nervously wringing, “Yeah...I know I shouldn’t but I do.” 

She didn’t say anything for a while and he finally realised he hadn’t thought through this at all. When he decided to come here, he wasn’t thinking about anything but the fact that he needed to be close to Ian. He didn’t think about how the other man’s family would feel about him overstepping. “I’ll get out of here. I’m sorry that I crossed that line. I’ll...I’ll get you a really good list of physiotherapists. They’re good, I’ve worked with a good bit of them so he’ll be in good hands.” 

When he pushed off the couch and grabbed his bag, she reached out grabbing his wrist firmly. Her hold was much firmer than he would have ever expected her small frame to have. She kind of reminded him of Mandy in that way. “No, you don’t have to leave. And you definitely don’t have to get him a new doctor. I’m not uncomfortable. He certainly wasn’t yesterday. I know what it’s like to look at him like this and feel helpless. Heck, I’ve had to feel like this with him _ and _ my mom,” she let his wrist go as she saw him sit back on the couch to listen to her, “Just being around them is all you can really do. Look out for them, make sure they take the meds and eat or stay clean. So I get why you’re here, because staying in your apartment makes you feel useless like you could be doing something more, like you just need to be here.. So you wanna stick around...I’m okay with that.”

Mickey nodded because it’s all he can do. He has no words and Fiona seems to notice as she continues, “You know, you’re the only real friend he has. I mean he has Casey from on the team but you’re the only one he can be unapologetically himself with. I’m glad he has that, a friend.” she speaks so softly he might have thought she was speaking to herself but he heard her and he softly murmured back, “Me too.” 

***

Ian had slept for more than five hours but when his eyes fluttered open they still felt heavy. It took a couple tries to get his eyes to open long enough to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. He could hear the faint sounds of the television in his room. But the sound was muffled and echoed weirdly like the television was submerged into a pond of water. He wanted to move but he couldn’t, his limbs felt too heavy and his joints ached. His face stuck to the pillow with the sheen of sweat that covered his body. His eyes fell closed for a moment before he opened them again. From where he was lying he could see the faint yellow of the bathroom light. He heard muffled knocking about in there. Fiona was probably stress cleaning again. He wanted to move so fucking bad but his mind was telling him to just close his eyes for a little longer. He let his eyes fall shut again and allowed the sleep to overtake his body. 

He was a prisoner to his own mind and body, just laying there succumbing to the stillness and echoed sounds. He felt like he was drowning, he wanted to disappear, for the earth to open up and swallow him, like he never existed. He woke again only a couple hours later to every breath he took feeling like glass cutting through his chest. He heard the muffled sounds again, except he was the one under water this time. He could barely make them out but they were voices. Fiona probably called Lip. 

He heard the bedroom door open and he wanted to get up and look over to see who it was, but his body is invisibly chained to the bed and his joints were all locked in place. He drifted momentarily, his vision blurring as a figure stepped into his line of sight moving some things on the bedside table on the other side of the bed before they sat beside him. It was probably time to take his medication again. The volume came back up on the television as the person settled, sitting against the headboard. He guessed it wasn’t time to take his meds. It isn’t Lip. the smell is different, familiar but not his brother. A hand gently ran through his hair as he let his eyes fall closed again, relaxing into the touch. The audience of the sitcom playing laughed out loud and then when Ian heard the soft chuckle, he knew who was sitting next to him. Or at least he knew who he wished the person was, who his mind was fooling him to believe was sitting beside him. The laugh was involuntary like that little bubble of laughter that escapes your lips even though you’re sad and have been crying for days. The first laugh after you’ve heard the most heartbreaking news. The hand ran through his hair one more time before settling right above his head on his pillow. His eyes are heavier and won’t open again. He might be hallucinating Mickey sitting beside him now but he let his mind think what it wanted to as he let the sleep cover him once more. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments and if you recommend this fic to your friends i'll be super grateful. Love you guys. Next Update will come Saturday, Please God.


	12. I’ll See You Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey got up grabbing his coat and sticking his feet into his boots before heading out and Fiona thought this is it, this is the shoe dropping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey.
> 
> *hides face after saying I’ll update on Saturday gone and didn’t show up until 6 days later* I’m sorry lol. I’ve been a in a real funk lately idk why. But fear not that funk isn’t stopping this fic from happening. Might delay updates lol 😬😬 anyways I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I apologize for leaving you hanging after that emotional chapter last Tuesday. 
> 
> Love hearing your comments and kind words ♥️

The black haired man had been sleeping on her brother’s couch for a week now. He hasn’t left since he showed up that evening with a bag on his shoulder and worry in his eyes and Fiona couldn’t even find it in her heart to be mad about it. It was difficult explaining to Lip in a hushed voice when he came to visit Ian that he shouldn’t say anything. The ashy blonde Gallagher was ruffled by the presence of the stranger and went into a sickeningly protective mode until Fiona shoved him out ordering him to get them all some takeout for dinner. Lip came back and he hadn’t tried to shoot death glares at Mickey when the doctor wasn’t watching, so Fiona was glad for that small mercy. Fiona had spent a lot of time that week with the doctor and even though she wanted to ask if he didn’t have work to go to desperately, just to hear him say it, she didn’t. She knew better because she knew that he knew she’d overheard him calling in a ‘family emergency’ at work and that _ he’d be out for the week _. 

Fiona had actually grown accustomed to the other man’s presence and she was growing to like him even. She could tell he cared deeply for her brother. If it wasn’t for his confession on the couch that night, she would have been able to tell sooner or later. For one, he was here and that was the biggest sign. She knew when she’d retreated to the guest room for the night, Mickey would go sit with her brother for some time until Ian fell asleep again and then he’d trudge to the couch. She saw the way he looked at her brother, but she dare not say a word.

Mickey had sat quietly in the kitchen staring into his then cold cup of coffee while Ian’s psychiatrist Dr Young came to visit. He sat and he stared and then startled when the doctor emerged from the room. “Dr Young, this is Dr Milkovich, Ian’s physiotherapist, I asked him to come by and meet you since he’s been working with Ian lately and he was the one who found him this time,” Fiona smiled as the older woman was about to ask who Mickey was.

“It’s very nice to meet you Dr. Milkovich. I think it’s great you’re here. I want to adjust his prescription and get him started on this new one as soon as possible. From what you’ve described on the phone there seems to be little improvement, he responded to me and didn’t fight back. But that’s him naturally coming out of the low rather than his current medication working. This new prescription should help him adjust a little better.”

After the doctor had left, Mickey had gotten up without a word and went into the bedroom where he sat beside her sleeping brother like he’d done all week. She told him she was leaving to get the prescription filled but all she’d gotten was a grunt in response. It had always been a fear of hers that her brother would struggle to find real friends and true love once people saw what was under the surface of the phrase _ “I am bipolar.” _She worried all the way to the pharmacy and all the way back that Ian would lose his only friend. Sooner or later the shoe would drop and Mickey would regret spending a week on that couch. When she got back Mickey was still sitting against the headboard with a hand tentatively resting on Ian’s shoulder while his own head hung low as he slept. She shook him awake chastising him for fucking up his neck and woke Ian for his night time medication. Mickey hadn’t said anything as he got off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. 

They sat in silence at the table both staring at their plates of chinese takeout, “Does it always feel like this?” he suddenly said, startling her.

“Like what?” she asked, picking up a broccoli with her fork.

“Does it always feel like you’re absolutely useless, just waiting on a couple pills to work?”

“Yeah...it always does.” she whispered.

Mickey got up grabbing his coat and sticking his feet into his boots before heading out and Fiona thought _ this is it, this is the shoe dropping. _

***

He didn’t know where he was going but he just needed to get out of that apartment. He used to think the place was fucking huge but lately it only seemed to shrink as the days went by. That day when he shoved clothes into a bag and headed over to the athlete’s place, Mickey hadn’t intended to stay as long as he had but Fiona didn’t seem to mind and he had nowhere else he wanted to be. He called in sick at work because he knew he wasn’t in any shape of mind to be giving anyone medical treatment. The streets were cold and the air was whipping against his face until his cheeks burned. The city was bustling, even if it was late at night and all he wanted to do was yell and scream at all the clueless bystanders. He stopped for a minute while leaning against the wall of a dive bar hunching over holding his knees. He just needed a moment. Just one fucking moment. He hasn’t known Ian that long. They’ve barely even hung out but somehow the redhead had weaseled his way into Mickey’s mind and heart.

He’s so past the point of being unprofessional now because he’s been sleeping on the guy’s couch for a week and he doesn’t want to actually leave. He leaned his head against the cold brick wall and looked up at the sky. The dark, starless sky seemed to get darker by the second like it’s drawing closer, descending onto him like it wanted to swallow him up. He just needed to breathe, “Rough night?” he looked down to the streets to see an old bum pushing a cart filled with the most random shit, “You have no idea.” he muttered.

He pushed off the building and headed back in the direction he came. He’d already crossed the line and there was no going back. The least he could do was make sure the redhead would be just fine, and if it meant he’d sleep on that awfully uncomfortable couch for another week then he would, because that’s the thing about Mickey Milkovich. He doesn’t fall for people or care easily but when he actually does he wholeheartedly cares, he gives his all into caring. He’d take a fucking bullet for anyone he actually cares for and for as long as he’d been living there hadn’t been anyone outside of Mandy and Jackie that he’d cared for until now. Now there’s that gangly, tall redheaded dork who Mickey can’t seem to shake. 

When he gets back to the apartment Fiona’s retired to bed already. When he goes into Ian’s room the redhead is sleeping soundly so he turned the bedside lamp off, pulled the blanket up and closer to Ian’s chin and headed back out to the couch where he let sleep overtake him as he buried himself under the warm blanket.

  


***

The next morning was different. Ian’s eyes fluttered open as the rising sun had shone onto his face. He guessed he must have turned over in his sleep the night before. The fog isn’t completely gone but he doesn’t feel like he’s chained to the bed. His bladder gave him the beckoning call to get up and head into the bathroom and Ian didn’t feel like just laying there with the hope that his body’s yearn to relieve itself would fade away. Instead he found himself slowly sitting up and he realised his body didn’t ache like it did before but he was sore all over from not having moved in the last… he wasn’t even sure how long it had been. He looked over to the digital clock on the side of his bed. It read _ 7 a.m September 24th. _It had been more than a week since Ian had been in bed. As he pulled his wheelchair closer to himself and lifted his butt to the seat before pulling his injured leg down and rolled toward his bathroom the guilt settled in as he thought that Fiona had put her life on hold for him for more than a fucking week. He relieved himself using the bottle he had beside the toilet. After emptying it into the toilet and flushing he washed his hands as best as he could reach and made his way to the kitchen being sure to not make eye contact with his reflection in the full length mirror.

He wheeled out into the kitchen feeling a strange sense of relief at the sound of his wheelchair rolling on the hardwood floors. When Ian got to the doorway that lead to the open concept of his living room and kitchen he stopped instantly at the sight, gripping a little too tightly at his wheels. Doctor Mickey fucking Milkovich was there. Sleeping to be more exact, on Ian’s couch. There was a duffle bag beside the couch that had a few pieces of clothing hanging out while a fresh set of folded laundry sat on top. Ian had lived most of his life with Fiona doing his laundry...heck she still does and he knew his sister did the set he was looking at. He could just tell from the way she folded t-shirts. His eyes settled once more on the sleeping man, he looked comfortable, at peace. He stirred a little without waking pulling the fuzzy blanket closer to his chin. It was probably creepy how Ian stared but he couldn’t exactly believe or comprehend exactly what was going on. He guessed the dream he had of Mickey sitting beside him probably wasn’t a dream. 

The doctor stirred again this time with his eyes fluttering open. Tattooed knuckles came up rubbing into blue eyes as Mickey sat up and stretched. As his hand came back down they gripped the blanket to move them aside and Ian could finally read what his knuckles said _ fuck u-up. _He felt the corner of his lips curl a bit at that before he heard a whispered, “Holy shit.” 

Ian’s eyes snapped back to the doctor’s face to see those two intensely blue eyes staring at him, pink lips parted, “Shit, you’re up.” Ian could hear the relief, and excitement in the other man’s voice. And suddenly the thoughts crash down on him. How long has Mickey been around here? How long has this man been putting his life on hold? He saw Ian in his most raw and vulnerable state and the redhead feels embarrassed. He’s ashamed that Mickey saw such a weak side of him even if he’s a fucking cripple for the time being.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” Ian’s voice was barely audible and his throat itched.

“Uh...I...uhm. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” the brunette’s eyes looked down where his hands where wringing at each other, “I’m sorry if I overstepped or something.”

Ian remained speechless. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy that the first person he saw coming out of this was Mickey, he just felt ashamed. Ashamed that he was so fucked up and he knew just how much he was crushing on the other man, he just never wanted him to see him like this. Mickey already saw him with his fucked up knee and knew he couldn’t even walk more than five fucking steps, Ian just thought he shouldn’t have to see him lying in bed unable to move or eat or shower. It made Ian feel smaller than he was.

Ian stayed in his head wrapped up in his thoughts, unaware of the brunette now moving around the living room collecting his things. It was only when he had his bag slung over his shoulder and his feet stuffed into his boots did he speak again bringing Ian back to fucking earth, “I’ll get out of your hair. I’m glad to see you’re doing better. And...uh...I’m sorry I overstepped again. Just let Fi call whenever you’re up to it...so we can start back on your sessions. I’ll see you around, Ian.” 

Before Ian could catch himself and tell the man he didn’t have to leave he was already out the door. Ian tried his best to get to him but when he got to the door, Mickey was long gone and Ian’s arms ached with how fast he pushed his wheelchair. He fucked up. Mickey’s voice sounded sad, and Ian knew he fucked up royally by making his crush feel like he wasn’t wanted. He heard a door open and close and then Fiona was walking into the living room with shock written all over her face.

“Hey, sweetface! I’m so glad you’re up,” she beamed at him dropping a kiss on his forehead, “what do you want for breakfast, huh?” She looked around the living area noticing the bags were gone. When she turned on her heels and noticed his keys and wallet missing too she looked at Ian trying to school her face to not show her disappointment. She guessed last night he really did give up on Ian.

“Why was Mickey sleeping on my couch?” Ian asked watching the way relief flooded his sister’s face before she looked around again.

“Where’d he go?”

“Home...I think I fucked up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to hear from you guys and what you think about where this is going. I’m gonna try To get back to regular updating ♥️ Have a joyous weekend 🥰


	13. I Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His voice quivered slightly and he remained still gauging Mickey’s reaction. The last thing he wanted was for Mickey to tell him to fuck off before he left.
> 
> “Is this a date, Gallagher?” Mickey asked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey 👋🏼 
> 
> Here’s a random update lol. This is kind of shortish. I’ve been super sick with the flu so I haven’t really gotten to write much but I’m hoping after my exam on Monday I can get some writing done. 
> 
> Sorry my posting is all over the place and random lol think of it as me keeping you all in your toes 😉 I hope you all enjoy this ♥️ This is a biggish step for our two favourite men.

Mickey knew he shouldn’t have expected Ian to be all fine and dandy with him basically living on his couch. He also knew he shouldn’t have ran the fuck out of there like the building was on fucking fire. But he did. He drove back to his place trying not to think about the way Ian had seized up and looked almost angry at the sight of Mickey on his couch. He felt his phone vibrate in his jeans pocket but he really didn’t feel like fishing it out as he drove home. When he got there, he looked around his quiet apartment taking in the sight of the darkness as the blinds were all shut and the air was stuffy and musty. He sighed throwing his bag to the floor as he moved around his apartment, opening the blinds and then emptying the fridge. He took the garbage out before he went to the bathroom for a much needed shower. 

When he was finished and finally sat on the edge of his bed he retrieved his phone from his front pocket of jeans that was now a heap on the floor. He had two text messages from two different Gallaghers.

** _Ian : _ ** _ Hey. I was a dick. Can you come by for dinner tonight please? _

**_Fiona_** **_: _**_I think this morning was a misunderstanding. I talked to him I think you should hear him out._

Mickey sighed running a hand down his face, before shooting off two texts.

** _Mickey (to Ian) :_ ** _ Sure. I’ll be there at 6 _

** _Mickey (to Fiona) : _ ** _ Yeah i ran out like a lil’ bitch. See you for dinner. _

** _Fiona : _ ** _ I won’t be there per his request. Just be honest Mickey...about how you feel _

He threw his phone back onto his bed thinking about what Fiona had said. _ Be honest. _He knew what she meant because somehow in the past week they

both had actually talked and became somewhat friends. He knew the night he showed up confessing that he’d rather be there than anywhere else it had only confirmed Fiona’s suspicions that Mickey was hot for her brother. And though they didn’t talk about feelings and all that girly shit he knew she knew how he felt. It just remained unspoken. Mickey looked at the time and decided he had enough hours to get some sleep so he relaxed into his bed and let his mattress hug him the way Ian’s couch just didn’t. 

When he awoke some hours later he showered again before standing before his closet to decide on something to wear. He chose a dark grey button down shirt and some dark blue jeans before he spent more time than necessary making his hair look decent.

***

When Ian swung his apartment door open his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Mickey nervously rocking on his heels. The man was so fucking gorgeous that Ian momentarily forgot that he was an utter asshole earlier that day, “Hey.”

Mickey looked around like he was avoiding Ian’s gaze before he eventually settled his baby blue eyes on Ian, “Hi,” his lips pulled into a tight smile as Ian rolled his wheelchair to the side to allow his friend to enter.

The two made their way further into the apartment until Ian’s set dining table came into sight. Mickey stopped turning on his heels, “What is this?” 

“Uhh...I was a complete dick. So I’m making it up to you with dinner and a really good explanation,” Ian was nervous, like really fucking nervous. His voice quivered slightly and he remained still gauging Mickey’s reaction. The last thing he wanted was for Mickey to tell him to fuck off before he left.

“Is this a date, Gallagher?” Mickey asked in his teasing tone to lighten the mood the way he always did. It made an effortless smile grace Ian’s lips. Ian swallowed the lump in his throat and he took a huge fucking leap.

“Yes.” 

Mickey’s eyes widened briefly before softening, “You better have made me some good fucking dinner.”

“I went the safe route. I still wasn’t feeling up to cooking so I order Chinese takeout. I-is that okay?” Ian asked reverting to his nervous stuttering self.

“That’s more than fine.” Ian rolled up to the opposite side of the table from where Mickey had taken his seat. He doesn’t know what it is about Mickey but the man mesmerised him. Ian felt like he was fourteen years old with a school boy crush and he hoped to God the man felt the same way.

“I’m really sorry,” Ian started looking up at Mickey’s gentle eyes. The brunette tilted his head for Ian to continue, “I...I didn’t expect to see you on my couch this morning. I was a real fucking dick and I’m sorry. It’s not that you overstepped at all it’s just that...well.” 

Mickey watched as Ian’s head ducked down and his green eyes refused to look at Mickey, “What?” Mickey encouraged.

“Well, it’s stupid now that I think of it. I just...I feel like a fucking cripple in this wheelchair okay? And that’s how you know me and I didn’t want to add another thing for you realise just how fucking weak I was. I...I like you Mickey and I don’t think that’s a secret. I just didn’t want you to see me that way. I feel ashamed and that’s why I didn’t say anything this morning.”

Mickey’s eyes softened more and he tilted his head, “Ian,” he reached across the table resting his hand on Ian’s, “I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re really strong in fact. Are you forgetting the first time we met? You weren’t in a wheelchair then. When I look at you I don’t see your injury Ian. I see you and maybe you’re in a shit place right now but I’m here to help you with that. Sometimes you just gotta accept the help or support people want to give you. I do think I overstepped sleeping on your couch for that entire week because I shouldn’t care or be feeling how I do about you. But Ian, I like you too. And that’s why I stuck around. Because I fucking care and I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You...you like me too?” Ian’s face was flushed red and he looked like a little kid.

“Well I wouldn’t have fucking slept on that uncomfortable as fuck couch over there for as long as I did if I didn’t,” Mickey smiled softly before squeezing Ian’s hand in his, “How are you feeling?”

Ian took a bite of food off his fork and into his mouth chewing as he looked down at his plate. When he swallowed he looked back into Mickey’s eyes that were so gentle and caring, “I’m better. Not 100% but I’m not in bed so…we probably got really set back in therapy, huh?”

“Don’t worry about that. This all part of it. Just let me know when you’re ready to start back and we’ll figure it out.” 

Ian nodded as they both properly dug into their dinner. They sat in mostly comfortable silence as they ate. When they were both finished Ian proposed a movie and Mickey cleaned the dining table of the dishes. When he came to the couch Ian had already settled into the grey cushions with his head against the arm and his legs lying along the length of the couch. Mickey gently lifted Ian’s feet before sitting at the end of the couch and placing the athlete’s feet in his lap. Ian put on some random superhero movie and they both relaxed into the couch.

Some time during the movie Mickey could feel Ian’s eyes were no longer on the television but on him. When he looked over to the redhead, his blue eyes met Ian’s intense blown out look. “The fuck are you looking at?” Mickey asked with very little bite and a slightly shakey voice. 

“You.” Ian whispered, “c’mere.” Ian stretched his hand out making a come hither motion, “please”

Mickey couldn’t say no to Ian, not when he had that soft needing look in his eyes. Mickey shifted until he was laying between Ian and the back of the couch and their faces were mere centimetres away from each other. Ian cupped Mickey’s cheek swiping his thumb along Mickey’s cheek bone. 

“We shouldn’t.” Mickey said, eyes locked on Ian’s slightly parted lips. He knew he shouldn’t let what was about to happen actually happen but he had little to no control when Ian was involved. Ian closed the distance before Mickey could put up a fight and softly pressed his lips against Mickey’s. The feel of Ian’s lips against his own was intoxicating stirring something in Mickey deep within his chest. Mickey could feel Ian’s tongues licking at the seam of his lips and he got some small grasp on reality. Enough to pull back and break the kiss. When he let his eyes flutter open he could see the worry and fear in Ian’s eyes.

“I…” Mickey looked down to where their bodies were pressed together as he was almost laying atop the other man, “Fuck. I want to. But I’m your doctor, Ian.” He tried for his voice to sound strong and steady but it didn’t.

“And I’m in the closet. Please don’t tell me you can’t. We’ll figure it out. But I like you too much to pretend like I don’t.”

Mickey found himself leaning in and pressing his lips to the redheads softly before resting their foreheads together, “We’ll figure it out?”

“Yeah.” Ian whispered against his lips. “Stay?”

Mickey nodded against Ian before kissing his lips again before laying his head on Ian’s chest breathing in his scent. He was so fucking fucked on this guy that he was willing to put his career and everything he’d worked for at risk but all he could hope is that it would be worth it.   



	14. Two Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was exactly two weeks after their kiss. They had spent their usual meetings working hard at Ian’s therapy and had dinner together on most of those nights. Neither had gotten handsy or kissy as the case might be and Mickey’s paranoia was at the brink of exploding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey *hides face* I'm so sorry I didn't update sooner. School's been hectic, I'm still getting over the flu and I've just had a overall lack of motivation to do anything. This chapter has been done and just sitting there waiting for me to edit. 
> 
> But, for what it's worth, it's here now. I hope you all enjoy this it's short, sorry but it sets up chapter 15. 
> 
> I'm working on chapter 16, as soon as I'm done with it I'll post chapter 15
> 
> PS im so not sorry for how i ended this chapter.

Mickey knew from the moment his eyes opened the next morning that he had fucked up royally. Whether it was the smell of Ian’s cologne that bathed the T-shirt that Mickey’s noses was buried in, or if it was the fact that he had woken up on Ian’s couch wrapped around the man, he knew he had gone down the winding road he’d promised himself he’d stay away from. He would deny that a small smile tugged at his lips when he lifted his head and was greeted with a peaceful sleeping ginger, but he knew he most definitely smiled. It was hard not to. Ian looked calm and relaxed and knowing he was okay made Mickey absolutely fine with the situation. He reached for his phone on the coffee table to check the time noticing that if he didn’t leave that exact minute he’d be late for his first day back at the clinic. He extricated himself from between Ian and the back of the couch as quietly and seamlessly as possible trying his best not to wake Ian. The redhead stirred slightly before throwing an elbow over his eyes and settling once more. 

Mickey’d love nothing more than to say a proper goodbye but he couldn’t find it in his heart to actually wake the athlete. He headed into the kitchen after gathering his stuff and ripped a page off the sticky pad he knew Fiona kept on the fridge. He wrote Ian a quick note with a crayon Ian’s little brother had left when he visited while Fiona was looking after Ian. 

After scribbling as best as he could with the worn out crayon he placed the note on the seat of Ian’s wheelchair and rolled the chair closer to the redhead before he ran a gentle hand through red tresses. He looked around like he wasn’t the only person awake and bent laying a quick peck on Ian’s forehead before almost running out of the penthouse feeling rather vulnerable. 

His apartment was quiet when he got there and started milking around the kitchen getting coffee started before heading into the shower. He couldn’t shake the image of soft lips and red hair and Mickey started feeling panic seize his chest at what could be the consequences of the entire night before. Mickey was passed denying that he was attracted to Ian. But he couldn’t ignore the larger question.  _ What would come of his career? _ Mickey had worked harder than anyone thought he could to be where he was, living off one meal every two days sometimes just so he could pay to go to med school, he had earned every bit of success he’d claimed and he didn’t think he was prepared to let it all go for...for whatever the fuck you wanted to call what was happening with Ian. 

He knew he had to shut things down and let Ian know they could only be friends but the thought of hurting Ian wasn’t something he could stomach. He washed away the suds of shampoo from his hair before stepping out of the shower to get dressed for a day that he knew he’d have to mentally work overtime in trying to not think about red haired, freckled Southsidian basketball player. He’d just have to make a decision later. He had work to get to.

***

Ian could feel Fiona’s haze on him as they folded the laundry she’d just done but he refused to look up and acknowledge her smirk and questioning eyes. He knew the minute he looked up he’d flush red and it’ll only launch a series of questioning from his older sister. Heck, he could already feel the heat creeping up his neck at the mere thought of the other man. Ian would never admit that he woke up in a panic that the other man had left because Ian had crossed a very thin line of their friendship. And he was certainly thankful that he alone was in the apartment when he frantically looked around and called out for Mickey hoping the brunette would step out of the bathroom with insanely cute bedhead. He had yanked his wheelchair closer to hurry in getting mobile to find the other man when he saw the little notepad page stuck to the seat. 

> _ Ian,  _
> 
> _ Sorry I had to leave without saying goodbye, just thought I’d leave you to rest. I have a shift at the clinic until 8 pm. Call me whenever you’re ready to start therapy again. _
> 
> _ Or sooner. I don’t mind sooner.  _
> 
> _ Mickey. _

“You’re blushing. Thinking of anything in particular?” Fiona’s voice ripped him from the memory of that morning and he looked up to find her looking at him expectedly like she was on the verge of gaining the latest gossip. 

Ian rolled his eyes dramatically as he busied himself picking up a T-shirt to fold. As he shook out the T-shirt to get it to stop clinging to itself he realised the piece of clothing wasn’t his. The fading black Metallica T-shirt felt soft and well worn in his hands. “That’s Mickey’s. It probably got mixed up in your clothes.” Fiona said. Ian kept his eyes locked on the piece of garment when he started speaking.

“Is it stupid how fucking deep I’m falling for this guy when he’s my doctor and I’m so deep in the closet I’m the fucking mayor of it?” 

“Ian,” his sister’s voice was sad and Ian couldn’t look up into her eyes that he knew would be filled with pity, “I don’t think it’s stupid at all. Have I ever told you why I got fired from that job I had at the accounting firm?” 

Ian looked up at the sudden change in topic and furrowed his brows, “No?”

“I met this guy, Adam, real nice guy but he was my fucking boss. I knew I shouldn’t have gone there but I did. And you know what? I don’t fucking regret it.”

“You got fired from that job, Fi. How can you not regret it?”

“I got fired because I overacted after finding out he cheated on my and I destroyed his office. He was a complete asshole but it was fun while it lasted. The heartbreak was rough but God it was so fucking good,” Fiona grinned widely. Ian was always stunned at the way his sister viewed life and her many fuck-ups.

“That story have a point? Other than Mickey could possibly take my heart and stomp all over it?”

“That’s actually the point. That man cares about you Ian. So so much. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Adam didn’t look at me like that and I still don’t regret it. Yeah, it’ll be tough to figure out the finer details but even if it ends messy or ends up being for barely a month could you really live with yourself if you denied the chance of knowing how great it could have been?”

***

Mickey took a deep breath in, as he punched the elevator’s call button down to the lobby of Ian’s building. He had been surprised as well as unreasonably giddy when he received a text message from his patient turned friend turned whatever-the-fuck-he-was-now. 

** _Ian: _ ** _ Hey, missed you this morning. How about tomorrow for therapy? And maybe dinner?  _

Mickey had ended up with his face almost shoved inside his locker in the doctor’s lounge trying his hardest not to blush but he really couldn’t help it. He had told himself when he left Ian’s place that he couldn’t allow for anything further to happen but somehow things with Ian happened so effortlessly and he had found himself quickly shooting off an agreement with those plans before heading out of the lounge to the nurse’s station to collect his patient files and not think of his maybe work/date at the shooting guard’s bourgeoisie penthouse that had come to be like a second home to him in the past week (not that he’d tell anyone that). So that’s how he found himself riding the familiar elevator after a particularly long day in his dark green scrubs that had gotten drenched in the rain. He would have changed but he only had a couple minutes to leave after his last patient noticing he was already going to be late to Ian’s.

When he got to the door he barely knocked once before the door was yanked open and Mickey was greeted with a smiling Ian. “Hey,” that one word from the redhead’s lips was enough to floor Mickey. The redhead rolled his wheelchair back giving Mickey enough space to enter the apartment. Mickey couldn’t really figure out the protocol here. Did he kiss Ian? Since he was standing and the redhead was sitting Mickey only assumed it was up to him. Before he could really decide though, Ian was already rolling away toward the gym to get their session started. 

And that’s how the weeks passed by. 

They met regularly like they had before easing back into effortless conversation and laughter and neither mentioned their “date” or their kiss. Mickey was actually seeming to go out of his mind, however. First he thought that maybe Ian was just giving him control of the situation, but Mickey was to chicken shit scared to do anything about it. Then those thoughts quickly morphed into the paranoia that Ian had changed his mind. Maybe Ian didn’t want what he said he did that night, and didn’t know how to let Mickey down so he opted to not say anything at all. It was exactly two weeks after their kiss. They had spent their usual meetings working hard at Ian’s therapy and had dinner together on most of those nights. Neither had gotten handsy or kissy as the case might be and Mickey’s paranoia was at the brink of exploding.

***

Ian was going out of his mind. He was sitting in front of the full length mirror in his bathroom running a hand back into his hair. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that night when he and Mickey fell asleep on his couch wrapped in each other’s arms after their searing kiss. Ian had expected that night to shift the entire dynamic of their relationship but it didn’t. After that they slipped back into a familiar pattern and Ian knew it was almost 100% his fault. He was scared. He had spent so many years in the closet and he was scared that pulling Mickey into the seemingly dark cramped up space with him would fuck up everything good about the other man. Ian wasn’t a fool to think anyone would willingly recede into the closest for him. That only made it boil down to Ian being scared shitless that he’d actually lose Mickey. Besides having a constant hard on for the guy, Ian actually genuinely liked his personality. He’d found a friend in Mickey and he wasn’t prepared to let that go.

He rolled out of the bathroom, letting his eyes scan over everything in the kitchen. Indian takeout was sitting on the kitchen counter, there was a six-pack of beer in the fridge and there was certainly a redheaded bundle of anxiety sitting in his apartment. When the knock came at the door, Ian rolled towards it as quickly as he possibly could pulling the door open. His breath was literally taken away by the sight of Mickey in his black scrubs and sweat dripping down the side of neck soaking into his cotton top. “Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly, “What the fuck happened to you?” Ian asked with a grin on his face trying to hide how aroused he really was. 

“Your elevator is fucking broke, that’s what happened. When I got here there were like ten guys trying to fix it. I had to walk all those fucking stairs.” He huffed loudly making his way to the kitchen to get a bottled water from the fridge. Ian couldn’t believe it had been two weeks since his lips were last on Mickey’s and the water wetting those plump cushions wasn’t helping the situation.

“You ready to get started?” Mickey asked once he’d crushed and thrown the bottle into the recycling bin. 

“You sure you don’t wanna have a shower or something first?” Ian suggested, letting his eyes rake down Mickey’s body.

“Sure, Firecrotch, but after we’re done in the gym. Come on. Stop ogling and let’s get this shit on the road.” Ian’s eyes snapped up guiltily to see Mickey smirking at him. The brunette shook his head turning to head to the gym with Ian following behind him.

“So what are we doing today?” Ian asked.

“You are going to warm up with some hamstring stretches, knee extensions and sit-ups. And then you’re going to walk again.” Mickey sounded confident but Ian felt sudden bile climb up his throat.

“Y-you sure I’m ready for that...A-after last time…”

Mickey stopped in front of Ian causing the redhead’s eyes to drift up and meet Mickey’s baby blues. “Listen to me, therapy involves trying and failing. Trying and then succeeding. You didn’t actually fail last time. You actually took five fucking steps. That may not be a marathon but it’s ‘something’. And we can work with ‘something’.”

Ian reached for Mickey’s arm to help him unto the yoga mat, “You should have been a motivational speaker.” 

“Fuck off.” Mickey laughed situating himself at Ian’s feet where he could spot him. “Now give me twenty.” 

Even though Ian was still vibrating twenty minutes into the session with the anxiety of walking again, the feel of Mickey’s fingers gripping into his ankles steadying him to pull himself up anchored him. It eased the tension until Mickey was lightly tapping his ankle signalling that he was on his last five sit ups. When mickey removed his hands Ian felt the anxiety return, thrumming through his body. “I’m going to help you stand. Steady your hands on my shoulders and then move on to holding the railing whenever you’re ready.”

Ian nodded as Mickey pulled him up to stand. Ian subconsciously allowed his fingers to grip into Mickey’s shoulder tightly finding his balance as he let some of his weight down on to his injured leg. “How’s that? Any pain?” Mickey asked softly, almost a whisper. Ian shook his head gripping tighter to Mickey as he felt the other man move away slightly, “hey, don’t worry. I’m right here. Think you might be ready to put both hands on the railings now?” 

“Y-yeah,” Ian stammered before moving his both hands to the railing. Mickey moved from beside Ian and walked the length of the railings until he was standing at the end opposite Ian.

“I want you to take as many as you can or want to. If you feel any tightness in your muscles or pain I need you to let me know. Feel free to stop whenever you want and go as slow as you’re comfortable with. I’m right here. Walk toward me.” Ian closed his eyes for a brief moment focusing on the sounds of Mickey’s voice. He let his eyelids flutter open and allowed his eyes to settle on Mickey. His big blue earnest eyes that held so much gentleness. Ian let his right leg step forward and shifted his weight to let his left leg follow behind his stronger leg. 

Mickey’s lips curled up into a small smile that had so much pride in it and it made Ian just want to get a little bit closer. He let his weight fall briefly to his left feeling a tiny wobble before letting his right leg go forward and then once again shoulder the weight as his weaker leg followed. “That’s it,” Mickey’s voice was gentle, soft and coaxed Ian closer, “Keep going.”

Ian focused on the soft whispered encouragements and let his body react the way his heart and mind was. He let his body take him where he wanted to be, despite the spike in the rhythm of his heart every time he felt his feet wobble and threaten to give out under him. Before Ian knew it, he was one step away and letting go the rails to grip tightly to Mickey’s shoulders. Mickey’s lips split into a wide grin, “You fucking did it! I’m so proud of you Ian. You di-” Ian crashed his lips into Mickey’s holding tightly to taut muscles relishing in the feel and smell of the other man. Mickey whimpered into Ian’s mouth letting his hands wrap around Ian’s waist to support him. When Ian pulled back for a breath of air Mickey smirked, “What the hell was that for?”

“I’ve been wanting to do that for two weeks now.” Ian pecked Mickey’s lips again. 

“You should probably sit now,” Ian shook his head wrapping his arms around Mickey’s shoulders and tucking his face into the doctor’s neck.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do that without you.”

“Bullshit.” Mickey called blushing at the compliment and wrapping his arms tighter around Ian.

“No...seriously. You have no fucking clue. I would have only been able to do that with you.” Huggin was weird territory for them both so they eventually let go and Mickey made Ian grip the railings as he rolled the wheelchair closer to him. 

“I think three more these sessions and you’ll be on crutches. You might have to come to the clinic to get a pair measured for you. I can tell Jackie to fit you in.” Mickey rambled as he fussed over Ian in his seat.

Ian placed a gentle hand on Mickey’s arm before pointing to the cupboards to to end of the room. Mickey’s brows furrowed and he made his way over there to yank the cupboard doors open to find three different types of crotches. “Right.” he muttered. 

“You’re staying for dinner right? Plus we need to finish season 4 of  _ How I Met Your Mother _ .”

“Yeah...but uh...how about that shower now huh?” he followed Ian out the room, rifling through his bag for his change of clothes he usually had after a day of work, “Shit! I forgot my fucking shirt. Can I borrow one?

Ian laughed at the nervous man, “You know where the bathroom is. And where my clothes are. Pick anything you wanna wear and I’ll take the food to the living room.” Ian turned his chair and headed to the kitchen trying his best to not think about a naked Mickey in his shower.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments, kudos etc are much appreciated


	15. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey sat at the edge of the couch looking down at Ian, “What is this?” he whispered.
> 
> Ian’s brows furrowed in confusion before they smoothed out again, “I don’t know. I like you and I thought you liked me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been bad with updating lol, School has been kicking my ass! Coming down to the last lap of the semester so updates might be few and in between, but I will try my best. i like to have the next chapter written when i post one, so 16 is done just needs editing. i will get started on 17 this week so as soon as that's done i'll post 16. i really wanted to do a christmas fic too and the plan for it is a bit lengthy but idk if that'll happen with my finals and stuff coming up. i already started it but idk if i'll finish.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy. This is basically a fluff chapter lol

Mickey probably shouldn’t be as naked as he was born in the apartment of the guy he happened to be falling in deep for, who also just so happened to be his patient. Fuck, what has his life come to? He stands under the spray of water letting his sweat and a long day wash away into the drain pipe. He grabbed the first shampoo he spotted squirting it out into the palm of his hand before lathering it into his hair. The fresh smell of lavender filled the air swirling around memories of Ian laying and bed and Mickey beside him running his tattooed fingers through his hair. Fuck. he quickly soaped up the rest of his body with the bar of soap on the rack and rinsed his skin before stepping out before he could get anymore aroused than he already was. After drying his skin with a towel from the cabinet beside the sink he shuffled into Ian’s bedroom to the drawer he’d helped Fiona put Ian’s clothes away in. He rifled through the stack of folded t-shirts, his hand grabbing onto what Mickey knew was his own Metallica t-shirt that he thought he might have left at Ian’s. He smirked to himself as he slipped his own t-shirt over his head and then his underwear and sweatpants from his bag. When he made his way to the living room Ian was sitting on the couch with Season 4 of How I Met Your Mother geared up on Netflix and the food spread out on the coffee table. A cold beer sat next to Ian’s soda.

“Smells good,” he remarked causing Ian to look up and instantly blush.

“I found that after you left. Must have forgotten to give it back.” Ian looked away, “I got Indian food. I hope that’s okay.”

“Indian is fine. Haven’t really tried a lot of it though. I mostly end up sticking to pizza most nights,” Mickey plopped down onto the couch beside Ian close enough that their thighs were pressed together and grabbed his bowl before sitting back into the couch. Ian chuckled beside him, “What?”

“Nothing, I like seeing you like this, relaxed, fresh out of a shower, no band-aids to cover up those tattoos. You know you don't have to wear them around here, right? I like them.”

It was then Mickey’s turn to blush as he relaxed further into the couch and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table making a show of how relaxed he really was. Ian followed suit and pressed play on the television. Mickey wanted to so badly to ask Ian what the fuck that kiss was back in the gym but shit was just going too fucking good to screw it up with talking. He decided he’d ask when they had a break from the show.

They watched in silence as they ate and then Mickey eventually paused the television to clean up the dishes before heading back to the show. When he got back to the living room he found that Ian had laid down along the couch like that night two weeks before and was stretching his arm forward beckoning Mickey toward him. Mickey sat at the edge of the couch looking down at Ian, “What is this?” he whispered.

Ian’s brows furrowed in confusion before they smoothed out again, “I don’t know. I like you and I thought you liked me too.”

“I do. I just...last time you and I were here we said we’d figure it out and then nothing happens for two week but you kiss me today and I’m really confused.” Mickey ran his hand down his face. He felt Ian sit up behind him and wrapped his arm around his waist. Ian’s chin rest on Mickey’s shoulder and the doctor couldn’t help but relax into the warmth of the other man.

“I don’t know what it is about you, but I really like you and I know this is laying it on thick,” Ian turned his head kissing the side of Mickey’s neck, “But I wanna see where it goes...if that’s what you want. I haven’t figured out the logistics about how we’d work but I don’t wanna write it off because I know it won’t be easy.” 

Mickey sighed turning a little and cupping Ian’s jaw, “I’m all kinds of fucked up here. I wanna see where this goes too but if my job is at stake I'd expect you to stand with me on that.”

“One thousand percent.” Ian said firmly pulling Mickey to lie down with him. Mickey snuggled back into Ian’s chest as the redhead hit play and they both watched the rest of the season.

  
  


***

When Mickey stirred awake the television had the bubble on-screen asking if they were still watching, and he was still enveloped into Ian’s arms. He smiled to himself as he peeled the redhead’s arms away and grabbed the remote to shut the television off. He took his phone off the coffee table to check the time noticing it was just before midnight. Looking back toward Ian, he could see the redhead sound asleep. He nudged the basketball player gently causing him to stir, “Mm?”

“Hey get up. I gotta go, it’s almost midnight.” Mickey said a little louder trying to wake the other man.

“Stay,” Ian whispered. Mickey had a day off the next day and he knew he should tell Ian he was leaving but instead he found himself leaning down and pecking the sleepy man’s lips, “Fine. but you gotta get to your bed. Sharing this couch with you gave me a stiff back.” 

Ian mumble something Mickey couldn’t make out before stretching his both arms out. Mickey huffed a laugh before standing up and sliding his hands under Ian’s body before lifting him off the couch and toward the bedroom. He lay the redhead down and pulled his blanket over him, “G’night. I’ll see you in the morning. I’m taking this blanket from the end of the bed okay?” 

“Where are you going?” Ian whispered letting his eyes open a little.

Mickey stood awkwardly in the doorway pointing with his thumb to the living room, “Uh couch?” he asked.

“Fuck off with that. C’mere.” Ian said turning over to face the middle of the bed, “Come lie down.”

“Okay, I’m coming. Lemme just get my shit from outside and make sure the door is locked.”

Ian hummed softly. Mickey left the bedroom, checked the front door the way he saw Fiona do so many times and then he took his and Ian’s phones off the coffee table and then wheeled Ian’s chair into the bedroom before climbing into bed beside the redhead. Mickey was so fucking fucked on this redhead he didn’t know which way was up and which was down.

*** 

When the sun peeked through the small space between the bedroom curtains, it cascaded directly into Ian’s eyes painting the back of his eyelids orange. He winced turning his head into his pillow and shuffling a little closer to the center of the bed. His body hit a solid mass of warmth and Ian’s head jerked up from his pillow to look to his right. When his eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the light he was immediately flooded with the memories of the night before when he saw the brunette man stretched out beside him. Mickey was laying on his back with his head turned to Ian’s direction, one arm stretched out toward the edge of the bed while the other lay on his chest. Ian’s lips quirked up at the sight of Mickey’s pink lips slightly parted. The brunette’s eyebrow twitched slightly before it furrowed then smoothed itself back out. Whatever it was he was dreaming about made the edges of his lips tug up slightly. Ian shuffled closer until his own face was just above his bed mate’s, he reached one arm around the man’s waist pulling him snugly to his side before docking his head into Mickey’s neck kissing the soft skin. 

Mickey stirred momentarily humming softly before he was dead to the world once more causing Ian to chuckled lowly. He kissed Mickey’s neck again before trailing more kisses along his jaw and chin before stopping right at his lips and pulling back to see Mickey’s entire face. He would have sworn Mickey was still asleep until the doctor puckered his lips telling Ian exactly what he wanted. Ian pecked his lips once, then twice before pressing their lips together a little longer and a little more forcefully. Mickey hummed again as his hand came up to cup Ian’s face at the same time his tongue poked out to prod at the seam of Ian’s lips. The redhead opened his lips giving Mickey access as his arm tightened around the man’s waist. When they both broke away for a breath of air, their lips split into contented grins, “I’m never going to get tired of that.” Ian mumbled tucking his face into Mickey’s neck.

“Best fucking way to wake up.” Mickey laughed.

They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms before Mickey’s stomach began growling loudly, “Do you have to work today?” Ian asked as he unwrapped himself from around Mickey and scooted closer to the edge of the bed so he could reach his wheelchair.

“No I got today and tomorrow off,” Mickey said sliding off the bed and heading into the adjoining bathroom to relieve himself. By the time he was done and splashed his face with water at the sink Ian was rolling in, “Stay the day. We can eat and laze around...unless you have plans.”

Mickey turned to look at the redhead who was twisting his hands in his lap, “No, my plans mostly consisted of drinking beer and sleeping,” he chuckled, “I could stay.”

“It’s a good thing we got beer then.” Ian grinned. 

“You got an extra toothbrush I can use?” Mickey asked. 

“Yeah under the sink there’s supposed to be a pack of new ones.” Mickey bent down finding said pack and plucking one loose.

“Have a lot of guests do we?” he asked teasingly.

“Nah, my siblings stay a lot and Carl is always forgetting his.” Ian shrugged rolling himself to the toilet and turning to face Mickey who had gotten busy brushing his teeth. The man was so effortlessly beautiful even first thing in the morning with toothpaste frothing at his lips and his black hair sticking up in every which way. When Mickey spit and rinsed he noticed Ian staring and turned to look at him sitting in front of the toilet, “Shit, I'll get out you way.” 

Mickey then turned heading straight out of the bathroom leaving Ian to do his business. He sighed as he looked at the bars to the side of the toilet. He wish Mickey didn’t have to see these parts of him.

By the time Ian had gotten done in the bathroom and rolled out into the kitchen Mickey was standing behind shuffling eggs around a pan with the coffee maker trickling behind him and a plate of bacon and toast already sitting at the table. “Coffee?” he asked with a breathtaking smile on his lips.

“Uh, no. I don’t really drink coffee. I used to which would explain the coffee maker but uh...When they changed my meds a couple years ago, I cut back because it didn’t agree with my stomach.”

“Oh right, Juice then?” Mickey placed the last few plates on the table then headed toward the fridge when he saw Ian nod. Ian couldn’t help but smile at how easy it was Mickey made himself comfortable. 

“What?” Mickey asked when he noticed Ian smiling when he lay the class of OJ in front of him.

“Nothing. Just you. Like this, making yourself at home. It ‘s nice. I like it.” Mickey blushed as he started in on his eggs smiling back at Ian, “I like it too.”

***

After breakfast the two men settled on the couch with Mickey laying with his back against the arm of the couch of one side and Ian mirroring him on the other end while they continued Ian’s much insisted marathon of  _ How I Met Your Mother.  _ Halfway through an episode Mickey nudged Ian’s legs with his own ripping the redhead’s attention away from the television, “You didn’t tell me how it felt.”

Red brows furrowed, “How what felt?”

“Walking, yesterday,” if Mickey knew asking the question would bring that look of absolute joy and pride over the other man’s face, he would have asked sooner.

“So fucking good. You have no clue. How soon do you think I can start using the crutches?” he was excited, more excited about this therapy than Mickey had ever seen him.

“I say by the end of next week we can have you on them. It’s looking pretty good. Your movement and function seemed strong yesterday. I was worried about being set back by that week we didn’t do anything but maybe you body needed some time.”

Ian sat up leaning his side into the back of the couch watching Mickey with this fucking dopey ass grin that was making Mickey’s heart clench, “Once I’m on the crutches, how long would you say it’ll take me to be walking on my own with no assistance?”

Mickey sat up until their faces were close, maybe closer than they needed to be from this conversation, “Depends,” he shrugged.

“On?”

“How much you trust your knee. I’d say about three to four weeks on crutches because you have full motion back in your knee. We just need to work on strength, stamina and getting your body accustomed to walking again. But actually putting the crutches down is saying you trust that your body wouldn’t fall, and I’ve seen a lot of people hold on to those crutches a little longer than necessary out of fear.” Ian’s brows were furrowed as he concentrated on every word Mickey said.

“You’ll be there, right? When I put the crutches down?”

“Do you want me to be?” Mickey asked hesitantly. Ian leaned in cupping the back of Mickey’s head pulling him toward his lips, he pressed his own to Mickey’s momentarily taking a deep breath of the other man before pulling back and nodding, “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Mickey nodded before turning on the couch and settling back down onto the couch so that Ian was lying behind him with an arm wrapped around his waist as they watched the remaining minutes of the episode. “What do you say about some nalesniki for dinner?” Mickey randomly asked.

“I don’t even know what the fuck that is?” Ian laughed but didn’t have time to ask before Mickey was untangling himself from Ian’s arms and heading into the kitchen to dig through the pantry for ingredients. “What the fuck?” Ian muttered as he paused the show and reached for his wheelchair. Briefly standing on his both feet all on his own to seat himself.

When he rolled the kitchen he saw Mickey already bustling away with flour and a whole lot of other ingredients Ian didn’t take the time to figure out. How could he look at anything else when there was this beautiful fucking man in his kitchen cooking some fucking dish Ian couldn’t even pronounce.

“What are you making?” Ian asked as he looked at Mickey busy himself.

“Ah...nalesniki.” Mickey said distractedly. 

“Yeah, you said that before but I have no clue what that is.”

“Just you wait and see,” Mickey smiled that confident smile that Ian often found himself getting lost in. Sometimes Ian felt like Mickey was getting to know a different him. This watered down version who wasn’t entirely all that confident because he couldn’t walk the way he used to and he couldn’t play the way he loved. 

“I didn’t always used to be like this you know.”

“Like what?” Mickey looked up confused as he stirred a bowl of some kind of batter.

“Like this,” Ian gestured to himself, “even the first time. When the doctor told me I may not ever play again...I watched that old prick in the eye and I said, Watch me. I didn’t always have such a shitty self esteem.” 

Mickey tilted his head with an easy smile, “I know that.”

“Huh?”

Mickey chuckled, “Two months ago,_ BoysBoysBoys_ Night at the Cove, don’t you go thinking I forgot about that. I believe your words were  _ Maybe it’s you wearing those black leather booty shorts… _ ”

“Oh fuck!” Ian groaned, “I forgot that. God I wish you did too,” hung his head in his hands.

“I get it though. This whole thing, what it could do to you. You haven’t changed, You just haven’t found a reason to be yourself again. And maybe it’ll only come back when you start to walk on your own again or maybe when you start to play again. But you’ll get it back.” Mickey shrugged.

“Maybe.” 

“Yeah, maybe then you could get me a pair of those booty shorts and we could really test out if it really turns your wheels.” Mickey winked as he turned the heat up on the stove ad placed a pan down on above the burner.

Ian groaned a long painful one before shaking his head, “You need to stop saying shit like that, before I pop a boner in the middle of the kitchen.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Mickey salaciously grinned before throwing a dish towel at Ian’s head, “You can pop one all you like doesn’t mean shit’s gonna be done about it before you get the chance to taste this delicious meal I’m making.”

Ian’s breath hitched but he’s sure Mickey didn’t hear. They hadn’t actually talked about or delved into anything sexual and Ian was now starting to worry that Mickey would quickly get bored with him.

“I can hear your brain ticking. It ain’t like that. It was a joke.” Mickey said suddenly standing in front of Ian.

“You sure about this? You just said another what...month before I can walk? Far less for how long again until I can fuck right.”

“Hey, stop,” Mickey clamped his hands down on Ian’s shoulders, “If I was hanging around you for a fuck I would have figured a long time ago that I’m not getting that for a while. I meant it when I said I like you. Just you. So quit it.” Just the smell of burning whatever the fuck Mickey was making perfumed the air causing Mickey to mutter a fuck, “See what you made me do?” he teased.

***

“What the fuck was that?” Ian asked rubbing at his stomach. Mickey blushed under the compliment as he picked up their plates and took it to the kitchen.

“Told you the name already fuckwit.” 

“Yeah but I like to hear you say it. What is it? Russian?” Ian asked rolling his chair toward away from the table.

“Ukrainian, and my mom taught it to me, she learned it before she came here.”

“Wait, you’re Ukrainian?”

“No, I’m American, my mom was Ukrainian. My ah…my dad is a direct descendant too, think his dad was from there. I’m not to sure.”

“Holy shit, you’re exotic.” 

“Fuck off.” Ian pulled Mickey’s hips toward him by the belt loops until he was looking down at Ian and standing between the redhead’s legs.

“Stay.”

“I gotta go home at some point.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got tomorrow off. Just stay tonight, please,” he ran his hands up Mickey’s side and nuzzles his face into Mickey’s stomach, “Please”

An hour later Mickey found himself in nothing but a pair of borrowed boxers under a thick blanket with Ian pressed to his side nuzzling at his neck, “Fuck, you smell good.” 

Ian continued to lazily kiss at Mickey’s neck and jaw until he got to his lips, he hovered looking down into Mickey’s blue eyes and Mickey’s breath caught in his throat at that look. He’s known this guy for two months and Mickey doesn’t know how he ended up falling so deeply without realizing it. Ian dipped his head pressing their lips, that are already swollen from making out, together. Mickey let himself get lost in the touch of the other man, the feel of his warm skin pressed against his own, the smell that seems to consume Mickey and that taste that Mickey would never grow tired of. He wrapped an arm around Ian’s neck and the other trailed lightly down Ian’s side. Mickey didn’t know how he’d gotten so lost in Ian but he’d be quite okay with never being found again.


	16. We'll Figure It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to feel. Was it normal to have a paralyzing fear running through him? Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I am so sorry this took so long. *hides* School has been kicking me in the ass and i was so fucking sick for so long. and then I had a bad reaction to the medication my doctor put me on and it's just been a really tough time. 
> 
> But I'm finally okay, just really trying to juggle school, writing, my art and keeping up with Gallavich every weekend lmao. This story won't be adandoned I promise. I just barely have time rn. i have two exams this week, two next week and then from the first week of December my Finals start until December 20. So I'm busy as fuck but I'm trying. Plus i have so many other stuff i want to post so look out for those. Thank you for sticking with me. Much Love. Enjoy.

He’d had a long day. One that was a mixed up chaos of having to do a few calls to the Bulls’ headquarters to do check ups, heading back to the clinic to finish off a night shit and then rushing over to Mandy after she called in a sweat that her ex-boyfriend was trying to break in to her apartment. By the time Mickey had dealt with all the shit of the day and has a few busted knuckles and a growing bruise on his neck he finally dragged his feet toward the elevator. It wasn’t a therapy night, heck Ian didn’t even know he was coming but Mickey really just needed to see that redhead. He was falling so fucking deep for him and he couldn’t stop himself. 

When the door opened Mickey was almost shocked at the sight of the redhead standing there leaning against one crutch. He’d forgotten that it had been Ian’s second day on the stupid things, “What did I tell you about using only one, huh?” 

“Well hello to you too,” Ian reached for him pulling him in closer but his belt loops and pressing a firm kiss against his lips, “come in.” Ian wobbled out of the way and toward the kitchen while Mickey took his coat and scarf off. When he finally made it to the kitchen Ian was leaning his hip against the counter, crutch still propped under his arm while his free hand chopped at a tomato.

“Look at you,” Ian blushed looking up to meet Mickey’s teasing grin but his face suddenly blanched at the sight of Mickey under the light. 

“What the fuck, Mickey? Who did that?” He dropped the knife and wobbled towards Mickey teaching a tentative hand to investigate the hand shaped bruise that was slowly darkening on Mickey’s neck. 

“Got into it with my sister’s ex-boyfriend. Gave better than I got, don’t worry,” Mickey grinned raising his bloodied knuckles. Ian shook his head heading back to the sink to run a towel under the warm water before squeezing it and throwing it in Mickey’s direction. “What are you doing anyway, huh?”

“I’m cooking.”

“Yeah I can see that Einstein, I meant why are you cooking so much?” Mickey asked as his eyes scanned the few dishes already covered on the counter. 

“Oh, my friend Casey is stopping by, he’s bringing his kid to see me since I wasn’t really around when his wife gave birth. Guess he’s happy and shit now that he knows the kid is actually his and not the neighbour’s.”

Mickey furrowed his brows at that dramas before shaking it off, “Sorry, I didn’t know you’d have company I just...I...I’ll go.” Mickey turned grabbing his bag and heading to the door. Before he could make it out of the kitchen the solid mass of a firm tomato was hitting the back of his head before it splattered on the floor. 

“What the fuck?” Mickey groused as he turned to find Ian guiltily standing there.

“I couldn’t run after you that quickly on one crutch. Don’t go. Stay for dinner.”

“Yeah stay for dinner on a night that you didn’t have therapy. I’m not gonna put you in an awkward situation Ian.” Ian shook his head.

“Come here,” Ian said, “would you please come here? I can’t come there right now.” Mickey rolled his eyes dropping his bag to the counter before walking over to the athlete. Ian abandoned the crutch that was holding his weight to sling his arms around Mickey’s neck, knowing Mickey would take the brunt of his weight. 

“You came over here, all bruised and shit. It’s okay to say you wanted to see me, Mick.” Ian nudged his nose against Mickey’s, “why are you so ready to run out the door? We can just tell him you’re a friend”

“Can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because I had to do a call to the headquarters today. All of your team knows who I am now.” Mickey looked up into Ian’s eyes and tightened his arms around Ian’s waist, “What are we, Ian?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what are we to each other? I need to know this isn’t just some fling or shit to you if I’m going to consider putting everything I’ve worked for, on the line. Because, I like you a lot and I wanna give it a shot but I can’t do that if I think you’re gonna back out when shit gets rough.”

Ian dipped his head pressing his lips against Mickey’s before pulling back to rest their foreheads together, “You wanna be my boyfriend, Mick?” 

“Fuck off,” Mickey said with no heat behind those words. 

“Okay, So you’re my boyfriend. Now you can go clean up and borrow a turtle neck from my room if you wanna cover up that neck.” 

“I am not wearing a fucking turtle neck. It ain’t that bad.” 

Ian’s eyebrows raised as he reached for his crutch that was leaned onto the counter, “Go see for yourself.”

***

When Mickey gets out of the bathroom after staring for a little while too long at his purpling neck, he grabbed thick grey turtleneck that didn’t look to potential from Ian’s drawer. When he got to the living room he was greeted by the sound a low chattering and a babbling infant. When he rounds the corner he’s greeted with the sight of Ian sitting on the couch with a two month old baby in his lap oohing and aahing while the same blonde Mickey had scene Ian at the bar with was sitting across from him. 

“Hey,” Mickey said tightening his lip and giving a half wave. The blonde guy, Casey looked up at the sound of Mickey’s voice and then smiled before standing and reaching out a hand to shake. 

“Dr. Milkovich, it’s nice to see you again,” Casey smiled.

“Please, call me Mickey.” Mickey relaxed slightly as he took a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Ian. 

“Thought you said you didn’t have training today.” Casey said as he absentmindedly reached over to wipe the spit from his daughter’s chin. 

“I didn’t but Mickey stopped by to...uh...do routine check up since the rest of the team had theirs today too. I’m still part of the team right?” Ian asked tilting his head. If it wasn’t such a touchy subject, Mickey is 100% sure Casey would have called bullshit but he didn’t. Instead he stammered over his words a little, “Of course you are. I’m sorry I haven’t been around really. I know you’re going through your shit and I haven’t really shown my face. It’s just Dani and I had a court hearing because she didn’t want me to see the kids and then they demanded she gave me my weekends.”

“Oh that’s good, right?” Ian asked with a twitch in his eyebrows.

“Well, Dani told the judge I’m a known partier and all that shit, so I gotta keep it clean mostly. Jaylin refuses to spend her weekends with me but I still get Mercedes because she’s too young to have formed an opinion. Jaylin’s mad I filed a divorce or whatever with her mom and shit’s been messy.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” just then the timer on the oven chimed and Ian set the babbling baby in his friend’s arms before reaching for his crutches. Normally, Mickey would help and tell Ian to just get himself to the table but there’s a stranger here who doesn’t know Ian is gay. And Mickey's been there before, he wouldn’t do anything to make Ian uncomfortable. 

“Dinner is served.” Ian called with a giggle from the kitchen.

“Hey Casey you mind helping me set the table? Mick...ey can you help me with drinks?” Mickey felt the corner of his lips pull up with Ian calling him his regular nickname. Casey set the kid in her car seat and brought her over placing the seat on a chair at the table. 

“So Mickey, how’d you get into sports medicine?” Casey asked conversationally as they all sat down to eat their dinner. 

“Uh there’s no story really, I wanted to be a doctor and made my way through med school and then when they asked what I’d be specialising in when I started my residency I just chose sports. I like sports, well most of them, you get to travel a bit. Therapy is usually the quieter side to medicine. Just kinda seemed like the best fit for me I guess.” Mickey didn’t have to look up to know Ian was smiling at him but Casey didn’t seem to notice, he was too preoccupied with the kid.

“That sounds cool, we heard you’re one of the best on this side of the world. Glad it’s you working with my boy here. Gotta get him back on my side.” Casey seemed like a good friend to Ian and he always knew what to say to make Ian feel better, “We miss you.”

“I miss you guys too. I was thinking of getting out of here and coming down to the courts to watch you guys play.”

“That sounds great. You can bring Mickey here. He’s only seen the inside of our locker room. We could get him in the stands, or maybe we could make him shoot some hoops. Coach and they have been talking about looking for new people for the medical team, you might get an offer.”

“No shit, I haven’t heard anything but I’ll look out.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something Ian,” Casey said much more seriously, “The team’s having that charity event for the children’s home down on Cermak. We were wondering if you’d make an appearance. You know, your first one?”

Ian’s eyes grew a little wider and he stared down at the little food left on his plate, “Uh...when is it?”

“In about three weeks I think. I figured I’d come ask instead of going through Jensen.”

“You’ll most likely be off the crutches by then.” Mickey said, attempting to encourage Ian. He thought it was a good idea because he knew Ian hadn’t been out of the house since he came home from the hospital only taking a few odd trips to the clinic for a check up and to his shrink’s office once or twice.

“Can I think about it?”

“Yeah man, you’ve got time.” Casey smiled before excusing himself to the bathroom while Mickey helped Ian clear the dishes.

Mickey could see the contemplation on Ian’s face but also the fear, “Hey, you good?” He asked as he stood beside Ian at the sink placing the dirty dishes under running water. 

“I don’t know,” Ian whispered. He leaned into Mickey turning his head to nuzzle the side of Mickey’s neck. Mickey knew he should have reminded Ian that there was someone else in the apartment but he couldn’t find it in him to reject the redhead who evidently needed him.

“We’ll figure it out, that’s what boyfriends do right?” Mickey teased earning a huff of laughter from Ian. Ian pulls his face from Mickey’s neck and glanced at his lips. Mickey should have told Ian it wasn’t the time but he didn’t do that either, instead he stayed put when Ian leaned forward pressing most of his weight down onto the crutch tucked under his arm and slotting his lips with Mickey’s. They got lost in each other’s taste, smell and touch like they always do but were quickly ripped from their bubble when a muttered “Shit,” sounded from the doorway and Ian pulled away quickly only to drop a glass on the tiled floor shattering it into a million tiny pieces. And like a domino effect, the two month old baby at the dining table burst into a fit of screaming and tears. 

“You’re...gay?” Casey asked and Mickey’s heart seized as he prepared himself for Ian’s denial and shame.

“I’m not…” Ian began quickly, and Mickey stilled, waiting for the response that he knew was coming but still couldn’t quite prepare him for the rejection, only it didn’t come, “Yeah...I am.” Ian said in a soft whisper. When Mickey looked up from the sink of water to see the tears in Ian’s eyes and Casey’s own wide with shock as he bounced his crying daughter, Mickey didn’t really know what to do with himself. He wanted so badly to reach out and wrap his arms around Ian’s waist and tell him everything will be okay but he knew he couldn’t. Mickey's been there, he knew the feeling of telling that first person. That first stranger. 

“I should uh...leave you two to talk.” Mickey said stepping away from the sink and rifling through his messenger back on the counter where he usually left it. 

“Mick...don’t go...please,” Ian’s whispered sounded desperate.

“I’m not leaving...just going for a smoke out on the balcony,” he gave Ian a gentle smile before he grabbed his coat and headed to the big glass doors that lead to the balcony leaving the redhead to face the uncertain music even though he wished he could stay in there and fight that battle of emotions for him. 

***

Ian wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to feel. Was it normal to have a paralyzing fear running through him? Probably. The sound of the crying baby bounced off the walls causing him to feel all the more frustrated. Like he wasn’t really there. Like he had tunnel hearing...is that a thing? Fuck , he needed to focus. He let his eyes finally drift up to see his best friend trying relentlessly to calm the crying child. He then looked at the floor where there were thousands of shards of glass, he sighed loudly before balancing on one crutch and wobbling over to where the broom and scoop leaned against the side of the fridge. He cleaned up the broken glass as best as he could, making a mental note to remind Mickey to check if he missed any.

“Are you going to say anything?” Casey spoke behind him where he was still bouncing a fussing baby. Ian sighed a long frustrated one before gesturing for his friend to follow him into the living room. When Ian sat he stretched his arms forward to take the baby and tried soothing her. It soothed him in return in some kind of way. It reminded him of when he used to hold onto his baby brother Liam and listen to his babbling when he was first diagnosed. 

Mercedes quickly calmed down when Ian held her to his chest whispering softly to her like he used to do for Liam, “Shit, you’re like a natural,” Casey laughed reminding Ian he was still in the room.

“Got practice with my siblings,” Ian refused to look up from where his hand was running up and down the sniffling baby’s back.

The silence began to grow and Ian could only focus on the steadying breaths of the dozing child and the thought that Mickey was just a couple feet away on the balcony enjoying a smoke, “Ian,” Casey said gently, “You know I don’t give a shit right? That you’re gay.”

Ian looked up to meet his friends gentle blue eyes and he knew his own were glassy, “No, I didn’t know.”

“I get why you keep it a secret from everyone else, but me? Have I ever made you feel like it’s not okay to come to me? Or have I ever made you feel like I won’t be okay with this?” Ian could hear the sincerity in Casey’s words so he looked up holding eye contact.

“It’s not you. I just...I felt like the less people who knew the safer I’d be, I-I don’t even think I’ve ever even thought about how you’d react, but my automatic assumption is everyone is gonna hate me for it.”

“Who else knows? Besides the Good Doctor,” he chuckled.

Ian cracked as smile, “Just my siblings, Dr Lance and Mickey...and now you.”

“You can always talk to me, Ian. This...this is just part of who you are, and frankly it’s none of my business. I’m always around if you wanna just...talk, let shit out. I can’t imagine what bottling this up for years must be like,” Ian had known he had a good friend in the man sitting beside him but it was then Ian realised the depth of their friendship.

“Thanks.” Ian continued rubbing his hand up and down the sleeping baby’s back as he held her close to his chest, focusing on the quiet sounds of her breathing and trying to come to terms with the fact that he just came out to someone.

“So...uh, how’d that happen anyway? You and Mickey?” Casey asked in a hushed tone so Mickey wouldn’t hear him from the balcony.

Ian chuckled softly, “It just...happened. He’s been really good to me, and I don’t know why the fuck a guy like him would want to stick around with a guy like me, but I’m fucking glad I have him.”

“Holy fuck, Ian Gallagher,” Casey whispered, “You’re in-fucking-love.”

Ian’s eyes widened as he quickly glanced toward the glass doorways that opened out onto the balcony, Mickey was leaned over the railing, peering down at something on the streets below, none the wiser of the conversation taking place in the living room, “Could you be any louder?” Ian fired back to his friend.

“Holy shit, you aren’t even denying it. Fuck, I’m happy for you, Ian. I really am.”

“Thank you, for...just thank you.”

“Anytime,” Casey squeezed Ian’s shoulder, “I better get going, get Mercy to bed, I don’t want Dani finding out I kept her out this late.”

***

The air outside was colder than Mickey had expected. He blew out a plume of smoke just as loud yelling and screaming could be heard from all the way down on the streets. He leaned over further looking on as two drunk women yanked at each other’s extensions while a crowd cheered them on. The fight below held for some good entertainment while Mickey waited outside. He tried to let his mind go back to Ian and he really didn’t have to try very hard. All he could really think about is that feeling he got deep within his chest to reach out and hold Ian when he saw the tears welling up in those green eyes. It’s the same feeling he had when he saw Ian lying on that bed motionless staring into nothingness. Mickey knew he was falling in so fucking deep, heck he’s pretty sure there isn’t further he can fall. But what really can come of them? 

He’s scared people would question him as a doctor and his morals if they found out he fell for a patient in his most vulnerable moments. Because the public isn’t going to actually see it as them falling for each other, they’re going to point out that Mickey wasn’t as vulnerable as Ian. They’re going to insinuate that he took advantage of Ian and he doesn’t want that tainting what they have. Then there’s the really jarring fact that Ian’s still so deep into the closet that Mickey doesn’t think he’ll be ready to come out. Mickey understood like no one else that Ian was terrified but he had already moved past that time in his life. He’d done the gay, scared and alone act for most his life and Mickey had finally come to accept who he was. He wasn’t ready to move back into the confining real estate of the closet. 

The door to the balcony slid open yanking Mickey back from the ledge of all his spiraling thoughts, “Hey,” Ian said softly standing in the doorway with one crutch tucked under his arm and his other hand propped onto the doorway. 

“Hey,” Mickey said taking a long drag of his cigarette, “he left?”

“Yeah he had to take the baby home,” Ian said watching Mickey blow the smoke out into the dark night, “Can you come inside? I-I really just need you right now and I don’t know if there are any paparazzi lurking with cameras around here.”

Mickey stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray on the glass top table on the balcony and turn making his way in behind Ian. He followed as Ian slowly made his way into the bedroom and started getting ready for bed, “You can borrow something for bed if you want,” Ian said. 

Mickey slipped his jeans and Ian’s turtleneck off, “I’m good,” and then climbed under the sheets, Ian followed, sliding in from the next side once he’d taken his medication and leaned his crutches onto the nightstand. The bed was warm and smelled just like Ian and Mickey felt like all his senses were being awakened by the feeling of Ian’s heat radiating onto him.

“Are you okay?” Mickey whispered, once Ian was pressed against him. 

“Mhm,” Ian’s arm slipped around Mickey waist, “Just feels weird, like he didn’t give a shit but I’m still expecting him walk back in here and tell me it’s not okay.”

“Yeah, I know how that feels.”

“Who’s the first person you ever came out to that wasn’t your family?” Ian asked softly.

“My friend Jackie, she’s a nurse I work with.”

“Yeah? What did she say?” Mickey snorted as he remember the words his friend spoke when he had finally worked up the nerve to tell her he was gay, “She said, I’m not going to talk about boys with you if that’s what you want.” 

Ian laughed and Mickey swore he didn't want to stop hearing that sound, he turned wrapping his arm around Ian and kissed his jaw, “The next person won’t be so hard, it’s still difficult just not as difficult as the first.”

Ian tilted his head downward capturing Mickey’s lips in a soft kiss. Mickey kept it slow relishing in the feeling of Ian’s lips slotting with his own. Soon Ian’s tongue began licking at the seam of Mickey’s mouth trying to get him to open up a bit and the kiss only heated up from there, turning into a mess of tongues and saliva and hands roaming across each other’s arms and back only to make their way up to grip into black or red hair. Mickey caught himself quickly when Ian’s hand began to dip further south gripping onto his ass and squeezing, “Hey, we don’t have to do shit. I know you’re emotional and stuff right now.” 

“I’m fine,” Ian latched onto Mickey’s neck kissing tenderly at the sensitive skin while his hand crept beneath the waistband of Mickey’s boxers to feel the smooth bare skin of Mickey’s ass cheeks. Mickey’s breath hitched as his hand skated down the expanse of Ian’s clothed chest before sneaking beneath the soft material to feel the warm skin. 

“Fuck,” Ian hiccuped as Mickey’s thumb dragged across his nipple, “you’re so good to me,” Ian whispered, “let me take care of you.”

Ian’s hand skirted around in Mickey’s underwear until he war palming at Mickey’s bare cock ripping a moan from Mickey’s lips. Ian gripped him firmly but not to right and began slowly pumping his hardened member while his lips latched back onto Mickey’s. Mickey’s own hand crept into Ian’s boxers fondling with the redhead’s erection. 

“Mick,” Ian’s whispered when the brunette man began jerking him off slowly twisting ever time he got to the head. Ian’s grip around him tighten in a pulsating way as he made his way up and down Mickey’s shaft. Both men swallowed the moans that filled the room and kissed at any skin they could reach until they were both panting loudly. Ian let go of Mickey’s dick pushing down his boxers and then pushing his own down, he pushed Mickey’s hand away and gripped them both in his large palm causing them both to groan at the feeling of their lengths rubbing against one another. Ian began pumping them both nipping at Mickey’s lips as the doctor became a withering mess in his hands, “Fuck, I’m close.” Ian whispered against Mickey’s lips. 

Mickey’s hand cupped Ian’s jaw softly contrasting the way Ian’s hand was moving around them and he locked eyes with Ian, it was an intense feeling neither had ever felt before when Mickey finally pressed his lips to Ian’s, “Fuck, Mickey.” 

“I got you,” Mickey whispered as he circled his arm around Ian’s waist holding them closer as they both moaned loudly as their orgasms overtook them. They were breathing heavily when Mickey reached over Ian for some tissues and cleaned their mess before settling again beside him. 

“What the fuck was that?” Mickey laughed looking over to Ian to see the redhead’s eyes were glassed over and he had a lopsided smile, “What?”

“I really fucking like you, that’s all.” Mickey turned back facing Ian pulling him closer and placing a kiss to his lips, “I really fucking like you too.”

  
  



	17. Stupid to Think It'll Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was fucking stupid to think it’ll work, for falling in-,” he stopped himself closing his eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sneakily drops this chapter like I haven't been gone for a month*
> 
> Hey=) Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Hope you are enjoying the holiday times. I know this time of year can be the best for some but the worst for others. So here is a chapter that's gonna give you all anxiety either way lol . sorry. It's short, and heartbreaking and I hope you all don't hate me for it. I'm going to sit my ass down and finish chapter 18 now so i can upload a shit ton this weekend.

“Paging Dr. Milkovich to the nurses’ station. Paging Dr Milkovich to the nurses’ station.” Mickey hung head huffing out a tired sigh as he looked down at his untouched burrito. He quickly wrapped it up and made his way from the cafeteria to the nurses’ station. He felt like lately he’d been running nonstop. He remembered when Mandy asked him why he’d like working at the clinic doing scheduled therapy session and how very seldomly his day would be very hectic. But lately that had been changing. Since news had gotten out that he was hired by his famous boyfriend, his days had gotten more hectic. Athletes were travelling across country for consultations and press was constantly asking for an interview, but beside all that, the clinic was making cutbacks and had laid off a lot of their staff which only meant that Mickey and his colleagues had to pick up the slack. More often than not Mickey was finding himself working six days a week, covering shifts that most people wouldn’t want to take. And being the doctor on call he ended up doing a lot of general medicine outside of his specialised field. The elevator doors pinged open and Mickey found himself dragging his feet toward where he could see Jackie speaking to a guy in a really fucking expensive suit. 

“You paged, Jackie,” He greeted with his lunch still in his hand.

“Oh hey, no medical emergency, just someone here to see you.” 

Mickey gave the guy a once over, his neatly tied tie and his messenger back hanging off his right shoulder, that eager look in his eyes that all young journalists had, “Sorry but I’m not doing interviews.”

“I’m not here for an interview, is there somewhere more private we can talk?” 

Jackie raised her perfectly waxed brows at him and he sighed, “Uh sure, as long as you don’t mind me eating I haven’t had anything for the day.”

“Not a problem.” 

Mickey led the guy into the doctors’ lounge, and sat at one of the round tables unwrapping his burrito and biting down. The guy sat opposite him with an easy smile. 

“I’m sorry to drop in like this. I can’t imagine how the press and paparazzi must be bugging you lately. I’ve seen your name all over the news more and more lately. And I’m guessing on such a big night like tonight the vultures must be circling.”

Mickey nodded, “Jackie’s had to chase off five journalists this morning already. So, who are you?”

“My name is Max Gilbert. I work with the Organizing Committee for the Pan American Games. And I was sent to offer you a job with us.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, We’re aware of how well you did at the olympics and we’ve heard astounding feedback of your work with other athletes. We’d like for you to head the medical team for the games coming up in a couple months.” Mickey sat stunned, his eyes wide open.

“Holy shit...uh sorry, I mean...wow. Uh thank you, I’d love to,” he reached a hand out that Max immediately shook.

“All good then, I’ll contact you by the end of the week with the contract and settle everything else. We are honoured to have you on board with us.”

It was a big night indeed. He’d just gotten an offer he couldn’t refuse to do something he’d been dreaming of since the Olympics back in 2012. He sighed happily with a smile on his face as the guy showed himself out. Mickey couldn’t wait to tell a certain redhead who too was having a night of his dreams. It had been three and a half weeks since the dinner at Ian’s place where the athlete’s deepest secret had been revealed to Casey. Ian was doing well. Mickey had subconsciously kept a close eye after Ian’s impromptu coming out just in case the fear and anxiety that he knew came with such an ordeal would trigger the redheaded man. But Ian had woken up the next day pressing kisses to the back of Mickey’s neck with a sickeningly sweet smile on his face like Mickey had fucking hung the moon. 

_ “What’s up with you?” Mickey had asked. _

_ “Nothing, I’m just happy you were there for me last night.” _

Mickey smiled at the memory as his mind wondered how the redhead was doing at that moment. He was finally off the crutches and making his first public appearance at the Bulls’ charity event while Mickey worked a 12 hour shift. He hadn’t heard from his boyfriend since he’d gotten a text that he was leaving the apartment and was nervous as fuck. He just hoped Ian wasn’t overwhelmed by his first event. Mickey was wrenched from his thoughts as the door to the doctors’ lounge flung open and Jackie was barging in. 

“Did you fucking see this?” Jackie asked thrusting her cellphone into his face showing him the image of Ian with his arms around the waist of a fit but curvy blonde who wore a skin tight emerald green gown, with the article title blaring into his face  _ “Ian Gallagher’s first public appearance with his lucky gal on his arms: the athlete opens up about his recovery and how Annabeth as been there for him every step of the way.”  _

“What the fuck?” Mickey grabbed the phone from his friend’s hand scrolling down to read more.

_ While having the best doctors and his family around is incredibly important the athlete said it was all the better to have his girlfriend there to support him, “We broke up, and I wasn’t expecting her to be there. But I was getting out of the hospital and she was there, and she’s been there every step of the way.” Gallagher says, “One thing led to another and I guess we’re officially back together. In some ways, I’m thankful for my injury.” We guess romance isn’t dead! _

Now, Mickey hadn’t told Jackie about him and Ian. No one knew except Fiona and Casey. But Jackie knew Mickey probably better than he knew himself. She sat beside him wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing rest her head on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”

Mickey cleared his throat and looked ahead, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mick,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes, then reached his hand up to grip her arm where it was wrapped across his chest, “How’d you know?”

She smiled gently, “I just did. You’ve been happier since you’ve met him. You called me to bring shit to his place for you. You were worried out of your mind for a couple weeks and when I asked you didn’t tell me to fuck off. You said a friend wasn’t doing to good.”

“I was fucking stupid to think it’ll work, for falling in-,” he stopped himself closing his eyes again.

“Mick, you’re not stupid.”

Just then his pager started beeping and he noticed he had a code blue call since he had been covering a shift for Dr Jones, “Shit, I gotta go,” he pushed Jackie off and took off out the room, thankful he had a distraction for the night. 

He worked and he worked throughout that night making more rounds than he normally would and helping nurses do what he’d usually avoid doing but he just didn’t want to stop to think because he knew how his thoughts would go. It’d start with his mind telling him how fucking stupid he was for thinking falling in love with a closet case who was in the public eye would be a good fucking idea. For thinking falling in love with his fucking patient would be a good idea. God, he was just so fucking stupid. He let Ian and his stupidly soft red hair, and lightly dusted freckles get to him. He’d fallen so deep in that week sleeping on the man’s couch when he should have been home and at work focusing on the things that made him Mickey Milkovich. Not falling head over heels while laying in bed watching Ian sleep. Or making sure he still took his pills even if he couldn’t open his fucking eyes. He shouldn’t have let Ian kiss him on the couch or in the gym. They shouldn’t have jerked each other off. Mickey frustratedly kicked at the post of the bed in the on-call room. “Fuck!” he yelled sitting down onto the edge of the bed and letting the tears flow. He looked down at his phone that lit up against the bed. Four hours into his night shift, and he’d received a text from Ian.

** _IAN_ ** _ : Just got home. Event was boring as fuck. How’d work? _

** _IAN_ ** _ : Coming by after your shift in the morning? _

He sighed and pushed the phone away as he lay down. He received texts at the sixth, eight, tenth and twelfth hours of this shift that night, none of which he replied to.


	18. I'd Want It To Be You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If the world is going to think I love anyone...I’d want it to be you because I do, Mick"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days, who the fuck am i? lol hope you all are enjoying this so far. i love your feedback and how excited you get for this. I'm working on 19 and i promise there is more angst to come

(Sixth Hour) ** _ IAN_ ** _ : Night shift must be pretty busy. Miss you _

(Eighth Hour) **_IAN_**_: Shit, Casey just sent me that article._

_ _ ** _ IAN_ ** _ : Mick, it’s not what it looks like. ISTG. _

_ _ ** _IAN_ ** _ : Are you busy or ignoring me? _

(Tenth Hour) **_IAN_**_: Please call me. _

_ _ ** _ IAN_ ** _ : I need to explain. Please Mickey.  _

_ _ ** _ IAN_ ** _ : I can’t do this in text messages. I need to see you. I need to explain.  _

(Twelfth Hour) **_IAN_**_: I called the hospital because I am that fucking desperate._

_ _ ** _IAN_ ** _ : Nurse said you’re sleeping. _

_ _ ** _ IAN_ ** _ : When you wake up and finish work. Call me. Please. _

Mickey barely read through any of the messages that he saw when he woke up the few times his beeper had gone off through the course of the night. He quickly deleted them and cleared the notifications of the five missed calls and headed to the lounge to grab his shit once his shift was over. 

What was there to explain? He knew Ian was a closet case from the get go, he knew he couldn’t expect to accompany the other man to events or expect Ian to go alone when he’s always had a woman on his arm in the past. That wasn’t why he was mad. In fact, he wasn’t even mad. Hurt was more like the word. He didn’t exactly expect Ian to step onto the red carpet gushing about how Mickey had been there for him every step of the way, or that Mickey fucking slept for a week on Ian’s couch when the redhead couldn’t get out of bed. He just didn’t expect blatant lies to be covering ever sports/entertainment news broadcast. Because he knew they were lies. He’d been over at Ian’s place so often that he knew the only people who visited him were his siblings, Casey and his baby and few drop ins from Ian’s family friends from the southside, Kev and V. 

“Hey, you alright?” Jackie asked as he dragged his feet past the nurse’s station. He ran a hand over his face and sniffed looked up, “I’m good.”

“Heading home? I can drive you. I clock out at six. You could sleep until then.”

“Don’t need a fucking babysitter. Might head to Boystown anyways.” Jackie’s eyebrows climbed high and she shook her head vehemently, “No, uh uh. I won’t allow it. This is you doing fucked up shit because your brain is all fucked. Wait for me and I’ll drive you home before you do anything you’re going to regret. You’re tired and you’re fucking heartbroken.”

“Listen a’ight? I’m not fucking heartbroken. I was the dumb fuck in the first place to think this could go somewhere. You want to know what I regret?” his voice started getting a bit louder, “I regret him.” Mickey turned on his heels despite Jackie calling him back and running behind him. He didn’t even bother to stop for the elevator. He yanked the access door to the stairs open and then barrelled down until he was out of the building, breathing heavily, red in the face. Maybe Boystown was a great fucking idea. He hadn’t quite meant it when he mentioned it to his friend but right then it felt like a plan. A plan he could control, so he hopped into his car and started the engine turning in the opposite direction of his apartment and mashing the gas pedal. He just needed to get fucked and get over Ian. He’d usually had regular hookups but somewhere along the line without even realising it, Ian had become to centre of Mickey’s attention and he hadn’t gotten laid since he met the other man. Well, that was all about to change now. The more he drove the more his sadness turned to anger because fuck that redhead and his fucking puppy dog eyes that had Mickey’s knees turning to jello the first time he met him. Fuck him and his stupid smile and musical laugh. He just needed to get the stupid motherfucker out of his head. A good fuck would do that. 

He parked his car near the club, looking at the time of the dash. It was just after 3 am when he threw himself out slamming the door roughly. The air was a bit colder than he had expected and it washed over him in a rush as a Chevy truck sped pass him displacing the air. He breathed out looking at the way his breath fanned out into the dark night. “FUCK!” he kicked his car’s tire as he yelled out into the night. This wasn’t where he wanted to be. This isn’t where he should be. He yanked the car door open again and slid in turning the key in the ignition and getting the heat going. Jackie was right. He was tired and fucking heartbroken. He needed to go home before he fucked his life up and slipped into his old Southside habits that had defined him for all of his childhood. He’d go home, have a drink and call Mandy and Jackie. He shouldn’t be alone. He peeled away from the curve leaving the muffled thumping of the White Swallow behind ignoring the hundreth call that morning from the athlete he was beginning to think his heart belonged to.

***

He climbed the stairs two at a time trying his best to get into his apartment as soon as possible so he could just go the fuck to bed and not have to deal with anything and anyone. When he got to the top of the steps he let out a heavy sigh and rounded the corner to find a long limbed redhead sitting on the floor in front of his apartment door with his head lulling to the side while he let out soft snores. Fuck.

He kicked his boot into Ian’s, “Hey, douchebag. Get the fuck up.” Ian startled before his eyes settled on Mickey and those puppy dog eyes came in to play. 

“Mick!” he rushed to his feet almost falling forward with his shakey balance and Mickey found himself reaching out on instinct to steady the man. He quickly let go when he knew Ian was balanced and fished his keys out of his jacket pocket waving Ian away from the door. “The fuck are you doing here?” he asked in a cold voice he barely recognized as his own as he unlocked the door pushing into his apartment with Ian following behind.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls. I’ve been calling all night. I was worried.”

“Worried that I saw your little interview? Yeah a bit too late, Fuckward.” Mickey threw his keys onto the kitchen counter and shrugged his jacket off before heading to the fridge. He grabbed a beer not bothering to offer anything to Ian and unscrewed the cap taking a long much appreciated pull before looking back to the athlete he hadn’t realised was talking.

“What?”

Ian sighed noticing how little attention Mickey was paying him. “I said, I didn’t do that interview. Fiona helped me get dressed, the limo showed up. When I got in, Jensen was waiting for me and Annabeth was there. He said he called her when I said at the last minute I’d go to the event.” Mickey watched as Ian took his own coat off and moved into the living area sitting on the couch like it wasn’t his first time in Mickey’s home. He instinctively moved closer wanting to hear what Ian had to say and secretly hated himself because of it. “I told him that I thought I should do this event alone. You know? Since it’s my first and shit, I mean I didn’t even want Fi to go with me. I wanted to do that shit on my own. But Jensen did what Jensen always does. He waves around the fact that I’m under contract with him and I have to do as he says when it comes to publicity and ‘marketing’. I didn’t wanna fight. It was a big night for me so I just agreed to go with her. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. We show up, we take a couple pictures and then we go in for the event. We have dinner and then a couple people start going up to make their speeches or whatever and Casey comes over to me and shows me the article. I didn’t fucking say those things, Mick. It was all a bunch of fucking lies that Jensen sold to make himself more money. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

Mickey was looking down to the floor. “Mick?”

Mickey looked up to meet green eyes that were red brimmed and filled with tears, “I wouldn’t do that to you,” Ian repeated. Mickey moved around the couch and sat beside Ian, “I didn’t want a date that wasn’t you. Far less for the world thinking I actually love  _ her _ .”

Mickey looked back at Ian at that word. That word that he had been thinking so much about. “Love?”

“Yeah. If the world is going to think I love anyone...I’d want it to be you because I do, Mick. I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you I hardly know what to do with myself. And those few hours when I thought I’d lost you, fuck Mickey, I thought I lost everything good in my life.” Mickey continued to sit still staring into Ian’s red brimmed eyes.

“I went to Boystown after my shift,” He didn’t know why he led with that but he saw the way Ian’s heart broke at that news and maybe Mickey wanted Ian to feel the slightest bit of the hurt or jealousy that he felt.

“Oh...Okay,” Ian said leaning back into the couch and staring forward trying to wrap his mind around what was insinuated by Mickey going to Boystown.

“I got out the car and then I just couldn’t...I couldn’t go in to some shady club and hook up with a random. I realised that I was fucking hurt because I feel something for you, it’s not just some schoolboy crush, Ian. I’m in love with you.” Mickey was about to continue when the wind was knocked out of him as his body hit the arm of the sofa. Ian’s hands cupped Mickey’s face and pink soft lips crashed into Mickey’s. The doctor wrapped his arms around Ian’s back pulling him even closer as their tongues slid together. 

“I thought I lost you.” Ian whispered against Mickey’s lips as his hips kissed him deeply and began rolling into Mickey’s thigh. 

“Ian,” Mickey managed to moan, “Ian stop.” Ian’s hips immediately halted as he sat back looking down at Mickey whose chest was heaving.

“What?”

“Not like this…”

“Not like what? We’ve been...you know...for a couple months now and nothing...I thought you’d want to...thought you’d want me. Is it because I’m fucked up still? I mean I’m walking fine, I’m not broken, Mickey.”

“Hey hey,” Mickey day up wrapping his arms around Ian, “I just meant I’m not gonna have sex with you for the first time on my couch. Was gonna tell you to get up so we can go to my room.”

“Oh,” Ian blushed looking away.

“I don’t think you’re broken, Ian. I just needed us to be sure about this. I’m sure. Okay? I want to.”

Ian pressed his lips softly into Mickey’s, “Where’s your room?” Chuckling Mickey stood up reaching a hand out toward Ian pulling him in the direction of his room. When they got there, he shut the door and began stripping his clothing off looking at the way Ian’s eyes raked down his body. The redhead sat at the edge of the bed unmoving looking at every dip and curve of Mickey’s body that came into sight as his clothing fell to the floor. Mickey took a couple steps toward Ian gripping the collar of his shirt and dipping his head low to press their lips together. He made it quick in removing the athlete’s shirt before shoving at Ian’s shoulders for him to scoot further up the bed. “Scoot the fuck up.”

“You’re being bossy,” Ian chastised even though he followed the instructions propping himself up on a couple of the many pillows lying at the head of his boyfriend’s bed. 

“I’m always bossy when I’m on top,” Mickey grinned straddling Ian’s clothed hips. 

“Oh you’re gonna be on top huh?” Ian grabbed two handfuls of Mickey’s bare ass squeezing the fleshy globes. 

“Yeah,” Mickey presses his swollen lips against the column of Ian’s neck, before licking up to his jaw, “last I checked… Your doctor hasn’t cleared you for any physical activity other than walking yet.” He peppered kisses along Ian’s jaw then to his ear before pulling the lobe between his teeth growling a bit into his ear. 

“Is that so?” Ian asked as his hands continued to knead Mickey’s ass with his fingers inching closer and closer to his entrance. Mickey kissed against Ian’s neck again and then down his chest looking up mischievously as he ripped the button of Ian’s jeans open. “Fuck, Mick. You’re driving me crazy man.” 

“Am I? I haven’t really done anything yet,” Mickey chuckled as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ian’s jeans and boxers and slowly peeled them down the athlete’s legs. 

He could feel Ian’s body tremble beneath him which only served to make goosebumps rise on his own skin. He loved that he could drive Ian this crazy. He threw Ian’s jeans off the side of the bed before crawling further down the bed to kiss at Ian’s calves. He trailed kisses up his legs stopping at the bulging scar on his knee from the two surgeries he’s had. He kissed the soft skin looking up to see Ian’s breath hitch as he threw an arm over his eyes. Mickey continued his ascent kissing at Ian’s thighs, and nipping at the soft flesh.

Ian’s arms flung out gripping the sheets at his side the moment Mickey’s warm lips wrapped around the head of his leaking cock, “Oh shit. You’re gonna fucking kill me.” 

Mickey hummed around him causing Ian’s hips to buck up into Mickey’s mouth. The brunette chuckled as best as he could with a mouth full of dick before beginning to bob his head taking his boyfriend deep into his throat. “Ah fuck, fuck fuck.” Ian’s fingers threaded into Mickey’s black hair pulling hard enough for Mickey to grunt round his girth. The doctor popped off loudly flashing that mischievous grin before climbing up Ian’s body to lean over into his nightstand drawer. He grabbed a new tube of lube and a condom and flipped the cap to squirt some onto his fingers when Ian grabbed the tube out of his hand, “Uh uh, I may be disadvantaged but I’m not a lazy fuck.”

The moan that escaped Mickey’s lips when Ian dipped a slicked up finger into him was the most delicious sound that Ian had ever heard. If he could bottle that sound he definitely would. Mickey latched his lips onto Ian’s collar bone, nipping and sucking while Ian’s continued to give him some much needed prep. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Mick.” 

“It’s...fuck...it’s been a while.” Even when Ian was trying to gain whatever control he could from being underneath the brunette, Mickey wouldn't allow it. He began rocking his hips down onto Ian’s fingers causing the redhead’s head to fall back into the pillows with a loud growl before he bit into Mickey’s shoulders. Not long after Ian had slipped a third finger into Mickey the brunette was moaning into his ear, “fuck, I’m ready.”

Ian slipped his fingers out and sheeted his cock with a condom. Mickey reached back taking Ian’s member into his hand and placed the head against his entrance as he buried his face into Ian’s neck. He slowly sunk down groaning loudly. It took him a few passing moments before he sat up planting his hands onto Ian’s chest beginning to rock up and down. The silence of the room quickly filled with the echo of skin slapping and breathy moans as their pace quickened and Mickey’s fingers dug into Ian’s chest leaving reddened scratches. 

“You feel so good.” Ian moaned looking up at how beautiful Mickey looked taking control and making him wither into a mess of sweat and pleasure. “Fuck, Mick.” Ian wrapped his long fingers around Mickey’s leaking shaft slowly stroking him while Mickey continued to rock and grind his hips, “You gotta cum, Mick. I’m so fucking close.” 

“I’m almost there. Wait for me.” Mickey grunted bouncing vigorously against Ian. 

Ian pumped his fist faster letting his eyes take in every fine detail that was Mickey blissed out. His swollen pink lips parted while his head fell back and he sang a chorus of moan to the ceiling. His thighs flexing against Ian, lifting him up so the muscles bulged, his strong arms braced against Ian’s chest and his pale skin red and glistening, “You’re so beautiful. Shit Mick,” Ian gripped Mickey’s head with his free hand pulling him down to lock their lips together as Mickey’s hips continued its lecherous pace.

“Oh shit… now Ian.” 

“I got you,” Ian murmured into Mickey’s mouth and he pumped Mickey through his orgasm as his own body shook and he spilled into the condom. Mickey rolled off Ian laying beside him panting up at the ceiling while Ian tied the condom off throwing it to the bin in the corner. “Holy fuck.” Ian breathed as he landed with a humph beside Mickey. 

“We should have done that a long time ago.” Mickey laughed reaching to take Ian’s hands into his own to bring his boyfriend’s fingers to his lips. He turned onto his side pulling Ian closer toward him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t trust you.”

“No, don’t take the blame for that shit. You had every right to feel the way you did. I’m just sorry you had to feel like that in the first place.”

“What are you going to do about Jensen?”

“I don’t fucking know. I’ve got my lawyers looking into the contract we have. But they say it doesn’t really look good. Apparently we didn’t really pay much mind to the fine print in the contract so they’re seeing if they can work around it.” Ian signed, “I’m so sick of living in this shadow. Behind a facade of who everyone thinks I am.” 

Mickey nuzzled his face against Ian’s kissing him gently, “I know who you are. And you’re a really fucking great person.”


	19. I'm Fucking High On You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He grinned to himself as he grabbed a clean pair of boxers and padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. His sexy athlete of a boyfriend was stood in nothing but a pair of Mickey’s boxers poking eggs around a pan while the coffee maker gurgled on the counter top.
> 
> “Hey,” Mickey smiled kissing Ian’s bare shoulder on his way to his much needed caffeine.
> 
> “Hi, you sleep good?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Hope it's an amazing one for you all.
> 
> i struggled a bit to write this chapter so I hope you all like it =) 
> 
> let me know what you think. I've already started 20 so hopefully i can get that up by the middle of the week.
> 
> stay safe and happy until next time.

If anyone asked Mickey, the second best way to wake up, was to the smell of bacon searing in a pot while coffee brewed to the side. The first was in the arms of his gangly boyfriend with either his hot breath blowing on the back of his neck or the feel of his soft lips pressing kisses to that special spot below Mickey’s ear. Even though he would have much rathered to wake up in Ian’s arms he was happy that when he woke up and realised Ian was no longer in bed beside him, the first thing he smelled was bacon and coffee. He rolled out his bed taking in the sight of the mess of clothing strewn across the room from the night before. He grinned to himself as he grabbed a clean pair of boxers and padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. His sexy athlete of a boyfriend was stood in nothing but a pair of Mickey’s boxers poking eggs around a pan while the coffee maker gurgled on the counter top.

“Hey,” Mickey smiled kissing Ian’s bare shoulder on his way to his much needed caffeine.

“Hi, you sleep good?” 

“Yeah, but I’m going back to bed after this. Night shifts are a bitch.” Mickey grumbled pouring himself a cup of coffee and then grabbing the OJ for Ian. “You know, you didn’t have to do all this shit,” Mickey said as he set their drinks down at the kitchen table that already had toast, bacon and fruit plated.

“I wanted to do something nice...since I kept you up most of the night.” Ian teased wiggling his brows as he brought the plate of eggs over.

“How’s uh...how’s your knee doing? You were quite active yesterday.” Mickey asked as he sat down.

“Aw, Mickey Milkovich, are you worried about me?”

“Yes dickbreath, I am worried ‘bout you. You got a problem with that?” Mickeys brows rose high with feign offense.

“No, I don’t,” Ian leaned over pecking Mickey’s lips, “I’m fine. It kind of hurt a bit last night after you fell asleep. I think it’s the temperature in here, It would have been fine if I just had that cream I usually use when it gets like that. But it’s fine this morning.”

“Okay,” Mickey nodded shovelling food into his mouth as he made a mental note to get some of that cream to keep at his place.

“So uh…” Ian trailed off looking at Mickey with those big green eyes while the brunette continued to stuff his face.

“Just ask what you wanna ask.”

“Your sister knows you’re gay right?” Ian looked down at his toast as he felt Mickey’s eyes look up at him.

“Mhmm.”

“Does she know about us?” 

“No, I told you last night I haven’t told anyone. Jackie’s the only one who knows and it’s only because she knows me too well and sees me too often. I don’t really see Mandy that much because our schedules clash a lot.” Mickey reached across the table placing his hand over Ian’s, “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Jackie won’t say a thing. I promise.”

“No...that’s not it. I was going to ask if you wanna tell her...Mandy...I’d kinda like to meet her.`` Ian blushed.

“Really?”

“Well, yeah. She’s the only family you seem to be close to. You’ve already met almost all my siblings except Carl and I have Fi and Casey I could talk to about us...I think it’ll be good to tell her.”

“Uh...okay. I’ll tell her and we can plan for you two to meet.” Ian grinned like he’d won the lotto.

“Good.” they ate with light chatter with their legs rubbing against one another’s under the table and then Mickey quickly threw their dishes into the dishwasher.

Ian emerged from the bedroom completely dressed and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist. “I’m gonna head out. Fi’s waiting downstairs for me. We’re gonna go to my lawyer’s and see if we could figure this Jensen thing out.”

“Okay, I’m going back to bed,” Mickey kissed Ian softly tapping his cheek, “I-I love you.”

“I love you too.” Ian whispered against Mickey’s lips 

***

“What are you doing this Saturday?” Mickey mumbled as he hung his coat up at his sister’s place. He took a brief moment to look around the apartment he hadn’t visited in week before following her into the kitchen. 

“I don’t know,” Mandy said looking at him skeptically, “Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing, huh?”

“You’re having dinner at my place. I’m cooking.” Mickey walked over to the fridge, helping himself to a beer before sitting down at the counter top to watch his sister finish the mac and cheese she was stirring. 

“What did you do?” she asked shooting him an accusatory glare.

“What do you mean, what did I do?” Mickey defended sipping his beer, “I’m the most responsible Milkovich there is.”

Mandy shut the stove off reaching for two bowls and began dishing out the food. She remained silent waiting for Mickey to break whatever news it was that he had.

“I’ve uhh been seeing someone. And he wants to meet you.” Mickey said looking nervously down at the bowl placed in front of him. 

“Whaaat??? You’ve been seeing someone? How long?” She had excitement in her voice as she ambushed him with questions.

“Ahh, couple months.”

“Well the fact that you want me to meet him, it’s gotta be serious right?” His sister was grinning from ear to ear when he looked at her. Suddenly she schooled her face when she saw that look in Mickey’s eyes, “Holy Fuck you’re in love. Aaaahhhh. I never thought I’d see the day!” She cheered bounding over and wrapping her arms around his neck hugging him tightly as best as she could with him sitting. 

“So you coming over or what?” Mickey asked when she let go and slipped into a stool beside him. 

“You fucking bet I am,” Mandy nudged him with her shoulder making him smile. He was nervous to introduce Mandy to Ian but he was finally happy he didn’t feel like he had to lie to his sister anymore.

***

Mickey was sweating. He had checked the garlic bread in the oven for the fifth time in three minutes and he was starting to feel his heart begin to crawl up his oesophagus and beat against his windpipe, “You okay, Baby?”

Mickey didn’t even hear Ian walk into the kitchen, he was too busy walking over the check the bread for the sixth time, “Okay, something is definitely up, you didn’t even give me a fuck off for that ‘baby’ remark.” Mickey stopped as Ian’s arms wrapped around his waist pulling him into Ian’s chest. He sighed, relaxing into the touch, “You don’t have to be nervous, Mick. It’s just me and your sister. From what you’ve said she seems to just me the female version of you. I could handle two Milkoviches.”

Ian was smirking trying to lighten the mood but Mickey just turned in Ian’s arms pecked his neck and then moved to the oven. 

“Talk to me,” Ian said softly.

Mickey took the bread out and placed it on a cooling rack before grabbing his half empty beer, “This is Mandy we’re fucking talking about. She’s rude. She’s fucking...blunt. If she thinks it’s absolutely disgusting that I ended up with a patient, she isn’t going to hide that thought. I don’t want her to think that.” 

“Mickey, she’s not going to think that. I’m not a vegetable. I made just as many decisions to be in this as you did. I know her opinion is important but fuck whatever she thinks if she doesn’t think this is okay.” Ian leaned forward slotting his lips with Mickey’s just when a loud banging rapped against the door. 

Mickey mumbled out a fuck before pulling out of Ian’s arms the moment the door slammed open, “I knocked incase you were indecent,” Mandy almost yelled as he threw her bag onto the couch and she made her way to the kitchen. Mickey walked out into the foyer stopping her before she could enter, “Hey Mandy.”

“Doucheface. Where’s their hot beau of yours?” She grinned.

“Promise me you wouldn’t judge?” He softly said hoping Ian didn’t hear. Mandy’s forehead wrinkled in the way it always did since she was a little girl, in the way their mother’s did. 

“Never.”

“Mandy, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Ian. Ian, Mandy.” Mickey stepped aside. 

“Holy shit,” Mandy muttered, “Holy shit, my brother’s dating a celebrity.” She grinned waltzing into the kitchen hugging Ian.

“Nice to meet you, Mandy.”

“Oh no, the pleasure is mine. I couldn’t be more pleased about this little pairing,” she yanked the fridge open grabbing a beer, “Do you know how long Mickey here has been fanboying over you? Let me tell you, it started the moment the Bulls announced they’d drafted you.” 

Ian’s eyes grew wide and he looked over to his boyfriend with a sly smirk, “Oh really?” 

Mickey groaned, he shouldn’t have been worried about Mandy liking Ian or judging him. He should have however been worried that Mandy sell all his secrets and embarrassing stories. 

“Do tell me more,” Ian smiled taking the plates to the dinner table. 

“Oh, he watched every game. Obsessed I tell you.” 

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up!” Mickey complained.

“Fine. That was a bit of an exaggeration but he has always been a fan.” 

Mickey had expected the night to be awkward and filled with knowing glares from Mandy. He’d expected her to pull him aside into the kitchen and ask him what exactly the fuck he as doing. Jackie had already given her seal of approval, Mandy was the only other person in his life that mattered.

Ian and Mandy couldn’t have gotten along better. They both joked, laughed and seemed to actually like each other. Given that most of the jokes were soft playful jabs at Mickey, the doctor could see his sister and boyfriend growing really close over the time to come. It wasn’t until Ian had set up in the living room getting the movie going and Mickey and Mandy cleaned up the kitchen did the brunette notice his sister giving him little glances. 

“Just say what you gotta,” Mickey said as he continued filling the dishwasher. 

“Nothing bad, just,” she turned leaning against the counter looking at him as she spoke softly, “I like him, he’s great. Gorgeous, smart and funny. I just...I’m worried how it would look. I don’t give a fuck if he’s your patient or not. I just need to know it’ll be okay, everything you’ve worked for, your job, this,” she gestured to the apartment.

“I think it would be. It’s not like he’s gonna come out anytime soon. I think we’ll be okay. Thanks for worrying though.” 

***

The lights were off, Mandy was gone, the doors were locked and Ian’s arms were wrapped around Mickey’s waist pulling him back snugly against his chest as he pushed into Mickey slowly. The air in the room was heating up and the sweat on their bodies were dripping down slowly. “Right there,” Mickey whispered rocking back into Ian’s hold biting down on his bottom lip as Ian’s hand reached down to wrap around Mickeys shaft bringing him closer to the edge. “I got you,” the redhead whispered as he quickened his pace nibbling at Mickey’s earlobe until the brunette was a withering mess.

“Fuck,” Ian muttered as he shook through his own orgasm. He pulled out tying off the condom and throwing it into the bin before laying back down and spooning Mickey once again. 

They were quiet, breaths slowing as they settled into the comfort of Mickey’s thick cotton comforter. “Today was nice, Mick.” Ian whispered.

“Yeah it was.” Mickey brought Ian’s hand to his lips kissing it. They fell into a silence that had Mickey believing Ian had fallen asleep until the gangly dork chuckled, “So you’ve seen every game huh? Such a big fan?”

Mickey groaned elbowing Ian, pushing him back and rolling on top pinning his hands above his head, “Fuck off.” 

“Why? Because it’s true? You’ve seen every game, haven’t you?” Ian grinned.

Mickey rolled off Ian onto his side of the bed throwing up a middle finger, “Fuck you.” 

“I believe I just did.” Ian’s red eyebrows waggled. 

“You really wanna give me shit when you have corny jokes like that?” 

“You love my jokes.” Ian said rolling into Mickey and kissing his nose, “I like that you watched me. Makes me not so insecure thinking you’ve only known me damaged.”

“You’re not damaged,” Mickey pecked Ian’s lips.

“Still, I don’t think it’s embarrassing that you watched. I like that you did.” Ian kisses Mickey deeply, “I didn’t know before but the moment you walked in on me at the clinic, I was a big fan. Of these eyes,” he kissed Mickey’s eyelids. 

“These lips,” he laid a gentle kiss on Mickey’s lips, “Your hair, fuck, you’re voice.” 

“Cut that shit out,” Mickey chastised. 

“No, Mick. I’m being serious. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Ian kissed Mickey again, licking into his mouth moaning at the feel of those lips, “I’m so lucky.”

“Fuck you, I’m the lucky one.”

“Look at us, were fucking high on luck,” Ian giggled tucking his face into Mickey’s neck, “at the risk of being a cornball I’ll say it. I’m fucking high on you.” 

Mickey burst into a fit of laughter pushing Ian off, “Fuck off with that shit, and go to bed.” 


	20. You Don't Want To Get Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He looked at the blinding smile on his man’s face and the glimmering pride in his eyes and he knew he just couldn’t take that away from him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Chapter 20 is here. so this is where shit really starts to go down. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it really sets up a lot for the coming chapters.
> 
> As I'm posting this it is seven hours until Episode 10! Hoping the episode isn't disappointing lol. But I did want to apologize for the title of this chapter, I in no way planned for it to coincide with what's happening canonically on Shameless right now. But anyways, I hope you enjoy.

It was a new week and everything was going well. Ian had met Mandy, they’d gotten on well and he and Mickey were doing better than they ever had been. So it didn’t really come as a surprise to Ian when his new week quickly turned to shit Monday evening. He was at home, watching some television waiting for Mickey to get there to do some therapy exercises when the phone rang. That was only the first thing to fuck his week up. It was his lawyer calling to say he’d been combing through Ian’s contract and there wasn’t a thing Ian could do about Jensen. By signing that contract he had blindly agreed that Jensen can and will make the decisions concerning publicity and marketing. He mentally prepared himself to break the news to Mickey knowing the brunette would be livid. 

When Mickey waltzed in he was evidently upset at Ian’s news but that didn’t deter the positive attitude he always had about Ian’s therapy and so he helped Ian push the _ What the fuck am I going to do now _ thoughts out of his head.

On Tuesday morning, Ian got dressed after Mickey had left for work and left for Orion Management for his scheduled meeting with Jensen. He didn’t know how he’d react to seeing the man for the first time since the fake interview scandal but he knew he couldn’t let it control him. When he was just a teenager on the Southside he was always reactive, ready to scrap with anyone who ticked him off or lit a flame too close to his chest. It was one of the first lessons he’d learned when getting into professional sports, _ always keep your calm. _ Everyone viewed athletes as the hyped up jocks who didn’t give a shit about anyone else but themselves, always ready to hook up with hot chicks or brawl with any guy who got them angry. Ian didn’t want to live under that stereotypical eye. Sure, he’d ‘dated’ lots of girls but he’d always kept his nose clean in any other way he could. 

He parked his car closest to the garage elevator and made his way to the fifth floor conference room. Today was going to be a long day, he could feel it in his bones. The usually familiar faces smiled and waved with a few asking how his therapy was coming along. Ian politely shook some hands, smiled and gave a “it’s going great,” before heading into the conference room. 

The minute he stepped in he knew he should have fucking stayed at home, texted Jensen a solid _ fuck you _ and call one of his brothers to hang out with him. Annabeth sat beside Jensen with her long strawberry blonde hair sleek and flowing down one shoulder. Even though Ian was gay, he could admit as the next straight guy how beautiful the woman was, she had pale delicate features, high cheekbones and perfectly arched brows that framed her forest green eyes. She looked tense. 

They’d somewhat become friends over the years that Jensen has set up the entire facade. He knew how to have a genuine laugh with her and Ian thought that if she wasn’t being forced upon him they could probably have a good friendship. 

Ian sighed as he pulled a seat, “What is this?” 

“Always so skeptical, Ian. Annabeth is here because I asked her to discuss some things but first. Let’s chat about some upcoming dates you’re being asked to do.” Ian glared at his manager hoping the man would see through his anger.

“Don’t give me that look, you know it’s business. The Bulls want you to attend their team Gala in about four weeks from now. There are a few charities that would like you to show your face but we might just send a donation instead of you going all the way down there.”

“What’s the charity?”

“Some local youth centre is having some rally to normalise LGBT athletes.” Jensen scoffed.

“I’ll do the event.” Ian said looking at a spot on the table. 

“No need, as I said we can just have a cheque written out to support their cause.”

Ian looked up glaring Jensen in the eye, “I said I’ll do it. Their cause isn’t the need for money. It’s a show of support, a face, someone saying it’s okay for these kids to be themselves, to feel comfortable in their own skin. I’ll do it.” 

Jensen was about to protest when Ian flicked a red brow up challengingly, “Okay, I will confirm your attendance. Now onto why Beth is here. The public loved your story.”

“You mean _ your _ story. And exactly that, a _ story. _Fiction.” Ian grabbed the new bottled water that was sitting in front of him and broke the seal puting the opening to his lips to drink.

“Yes, they love to see a softer side of you. Not the player we’ve painted. Our team has been talking and we think the next step is to really solidify your foundation and support. Let the fans know you’re doing well, not falling apart. A man getting married is definitely not falling apart.” Ian almost choked on the water flowing effortlessly down his throat, having to wheel his chair away from the table and bend forward coughing. 

“I’m sorry what the fuck did you just say?”

“A wedding. The fans would love nothing better! We announce the engagement before your first game back on the court and we create the perfect buzz. People will want to see you happy, glowing. It’s a good move.”

“No! I’m not getting fucking married! Stop with the fucking bullshit, Jensen!” He grabbed his sunglasses off the table and stormed out of the conference room vaguely aware of the female voice following him.

“Ian! Wait!” 

Ian kept barrelling through the bullpen of the management company punching aggressively at the elevator’s down button. The elevator dinged open almost instantly flooding the floor with about a dozen new people. Ian simple wove his way through the crowd of people and into the wide chrome elevator. His chest felt like it was about to close up on him. His breath was quickened and his vision was blurry. He blinked a couple times clearing his sight just in time to see a designer purse sticking in between the closing elevator doors causing them to slide open once again. Annabeth slipped in slamming her fingers twice into the button to shut the doors. Once the door had closed and the numbers began descending she looked at Ian with the same gentle face Ian had seen time and time again. “If we both walk out of here looking as frazzled as we do and go our separate ways, we’re going to be in the headlines again and that’s not something we want.”

Ian leaned his head against the metal wall with his eyes closed, breathing in, trying to calm himself, “What exactly do you suggest then?”

“Join me in the lounge on the ground floor for a cup of coffee. It’s quiet, no one will photograph us there, we could talk and then leave separately. Please, Ian.”

Ian breathed in deeply then out just as the elevator dinged on the ground floor. The doors slid open and she flashed him an earnest look, “Lead the way.”

***

Tuesday was a good fucking day in Mickey Milkovich’s book. He’d had a short day at the clinic, made a two private calls to a gymnast and a soccer player before heading to his meeting just after noon with Max Gilbert. Mickey had agreed to meet with the correspondent of the Organizing Committee at a local diner not far from his apartment to sign the contracts and go over dates before ordering two extra servings of burgers and fries to take back to his place for when Ian would come over. He knew his boyfriend was only a little stressed out about meeting with his manager, so he wanted to do something nice. But also, he wanted to celebrate having just signed a major contract for the games that were just in a couple weeks.

***

The lounge was quiet with somber jazz music playing in the background and only about three other customers sitting all on their own at their little booths. Annabeth made her way to the bar making an order and then leading the way to a secluded booth. Ian’s phone vibrated as he took his seat with a text message from Mickey.

** _Mickey: _ ** _ Hope it’s all good on your end. Heading to a meeting now. Should be done in about an hour. Come over tonight. :) _

Ian shut off a thumbs up and a ‘can't wait to hear about it’ before turning his attention to the waitress who brought two cups of coffee over. “So...what do you want to talk about?”

Annabeth sipped her coffee, looking up at him and smiling softly, “You don’t want to get married.” it wasn’t a question it was simply an observation.

“Beth...it’s not that you’re not great. You’re amazing I jus-” she quickly waved her hand cutting him off.

“It’s fine, Ian. Neither do I.”

“You don’t?” she chuckled shaking her head looking down as she fidgeted with her clothing before turning back to him as he spoke, “So why are you here?”

“Jensen called me yesterday, he told me that I had to be here for the meeting. I showed up because I’m being paid to show up,”

Ian’s eyebrows furrowed, “Wait, Jensen is paying you to date me?”

She shrugged, “Look, Jensen and I, we grew up in the same neighbourhood. Things worked out for him. They didn’t for me. He’s always helped me out. He got me the job at the Cove and he used to pay my rent and shit. It started off when he wanted to sell a story with some athlete who no one gave a shit about anymore and he needed the story to be big so he asked me if I’d pretend. The story blew up about a former NFL player dating a stripper at the Cove. It brought business to the club and Jensen paid me. Then it was you. He called and asked if I could escort you to an event and I met you, and I liked you. You’re a good person.”

“Beth…”

“Wait. Let me finish. I don’t know what it is Jensen told you all the times I reached out.”

“He told me you wanted to see where we could go, that you liked me and wanted to date seriously.” Annabeth laughed throwing her head back, “What?”

“He really always knew how to scare guys off who I wanted to hang around,” she looked up into his eyes holding his gaze, “Even the gay ones.”

Ian froze, his leg that he hadn’t even realised was shaking has stopped and the redhead could swear he could feel bile climbing up his throat, “W-what?”

“I know, Ian. I’ve always known. That first time we went out, and we went back to your place. I kissed you and you couldn’t have been anymore uncomfortable. I don’t know how all the other girls you’ve dated haven’t figured it out yet but I did. That’s why I was always trying to reach out. I didn’t want to date you. I wanted to be your friend, to tell that I knew and that you could talk to me,” She reached over placing her hand over Ian’s, “I can’t imagine what it must be like living a lie.” 

Ian refused to look up from where he stared into the swirled coffee. “Ian, I’ve met someone. He works at the club. We’ve been together for a while now and I-I’m pregnant.”

Ian looked up then. “Congrats?”

“Yeah, I want a normal life with him. I don’t want this. But Jensen isn’t the sweet teenaged boy who promised to take care of me anymore. He’s manipulative and he vile and he’s threatening everything I’ve worked for if I don’t do this. I’ve got a family to protect now.”

“No, don’t worry about it. Let Jensen know you’re all in, okay? I’ll keep my stance that it’s me that’s against it. I’ll get him to back off. He can’t force me to marry you.” It was the first time Ian really had ever seen her look scared, “You can’t...you can’t tell anyone what you know about me.”

“I’ve known for three years, Ian. Your secret is safe with me. I promise.” Ian nodded his head and then took a sip of his coffee.

“Are you going to tell him about all of this?” she then asked.

“Tell who?”  
  


“The guy who you’ve been checking your phone non-stop to see if he’s texted.” she smiled. 

Ian looked around the lounge noticing they were the only two ones left there, “I think I have to. This is pretty big.” she nodded reaching over and squeezing his hand before getting up, “Good luck.”

***

The moment Ian walked into Mickey’s apartment that night and saw the gleaming grin the other man wore, Ian knew he couldn’t tell Mickey about the meeting with Jensen. “Hey!” Mickey called from where he was plating their burgers and fries and getting two cans of soda in the kitchen. Ian tried his hardest to smile back and not let Mickey see through it. Mickey walked right up to him wrapping his arms around the basketball player’s neck and bringing him in for a slow passionate kiss. “Hey,” the brunette whispered at a more subdued volume against Ian’s lips.

“Hi,” kissing Mickey made him smile. It was for those few passing moments he was able to forget the cluster fuck that was the meeting before and simply melt into Mickey’s arms.

“How’d your meeting go?” Mickey asked, with his dark eyebrows drawing together as he studied every inch of Ian’s face. It was too hard to look at Mickey’s happiness and rip it out from under him, he knew he just couldn’t. Ian shrugged keeping his eyes locked on Mickey’s lips, “Fine. Jensen was just...Jensen. Missed you.” Ian dipped in pecking Mickey’s lips a couple times before sweeping his tongue over Mickey’s bottom lip.

The doctor giggled before giving in and letting his lips part to allow Ian to dip his tongue in. Like most kisses between the two, they both got distracted pressing their bodies closer and wrapping their arms impossibly tighter around each other. Mickey was the one to pull away first chuckling at the whine that escaped Ian’s lips, “I’ve got some news.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Ian asked as they reluctantly peeled themselves off each other and moved toward the waiting food.

“So, I met with this guy today from the Organization committee for the PAG. He showed up a couple weeks ago to offer me a job. Well, today...I signed the contract and went over all the finer details. You’re now looking at the Head of the Medical Team for this year's Pan American Games.” Mickey said flourishly spreading his arms gesturing to himself with a wide toothy grin. 

“Holy Shit, Mick!” Ian ambushed him, grabbing him under the ass and lifting while he pressed his lips against Mickey’s, “That’s so fucking awesome! I’m so proud of you.” 

Mickey giggled at the praise kissing Ian again as he was put to sit on the kitchen counter.

“Wait, those games are like right around the corner right? Like in a couple weeks. How are they now asking you? That’s like really fucking late.”

“I know. I thought the same thing but apparently the guy who was supposed to do it, some uppity fuck from New York pulled out at the last minute. Who the fuck knows why...so they offered it to me. Said when they chose him, they really didn’t know about me until they saw articles about you and I working on your therapy.” Ian pressed closer to Mickey grinning up at him as he kissed him again.

“In that case, I’m thankful for my fucked up knee. You’re gonna fucking own it.”

“Think you’ll be able to survive three weeks away from me?” Mickey teased.

“Fuck no, don’t you think you’re getting away from me. You’re gonna have to Facetime me every night.” Ian laughed, “I love you, and I’m so fucking proud of you.” to ruin the perfectly cheesy moment Mickey’s stomach growled loudly sending them both into a fit of laughter. Mickey slid off the counter and took their food to the living room where he had reruns of _ How I Met Your Mother _ queued up. It’s funny that only months ago Mickey had never even watched the sitcom. Now he and his boyfriend spent most of their free time with reruns playing in the background of anything they did together. “You coming?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, I’m right behind you.”

“I left the drinks on the counter!” Mickey called as Ian could hear him getting comfortable on the couch.

“I got it,” Ian followed Mickey and fell into the couch. He looked at the blinding smile on his man’s face and the glimmering pride in his eyes and he knew he just couldn’t take that away from him. He’d have to handle the Jensen thing on his own. If not for him, for Mickey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that title really had nothing to do with Mickey and Ian :| sorry lol i couldn't miss that opportunity to get you on the edge of your seats. i do humbly apologize though. do leave you thoughts, i'd love to hear them.


	21. For Kobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and just like that Ian understood why Mickey never called him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. i really have no other excuse other than writer's block. 
> 
> It isn't much but I wanted to pay tribute to Kobe. Can't believe he and his little girl are gone and it breaks my heart. 
> 
> i hope you all enjoy this chapter and i promise i am working on Chapter 22 as you read this.
> 
> hope January has treated you all well and February is even better. please let me know what you think.

The penthouse was oddly quiet for a Friday night. Ian had just gotten off a call with Fiona before taking a walk around the space turning off all the lights, closing the blinds and locking the door before heading to his bed. He’d taken that little white pill his doctor had recommended he take when he felt extra jittery and headed straight to bed. It amazes Ian that even though he and Mickey had only been together for a few months shy of a year he and the other man hardly spent their nights apart unless the doctor was on a night shift. But even then the shifts were usually followed by the brunette trudging tiredly into Ian’s apartment and falling into the king sized bed beckoning Ian to join him in some much needed cuddling. Tonight was different though. His very much-loved grumpy boyfriend wasn’t there for Ian to hold, and there was no anticipation of him slipping into Ian’s bed in the early hours of the morning. No, Mickey wasn’t even in the same country. Ian lay down looking up at the white ceiling of his bedroom breathing in deeply and then out. 

He’d wished more than anything that Mickey could be beside him to wrap his arms around Ian’s torso, bury his face into Ian’s neck and kiss his anxiety away. But the reality of it was that Ian’s first game back on the court coincided with Mickey’s first day at the Pan American games. The buzzing of his cellphone jolted him out of his haze.

** _Mickey: _ ** _ Wish i could be there tomorrow. You’ve got this. I love you. _

_ *Two weeks Earlier* _

_ The sweat dripped down every inch of his body as his heart worked overtime pumping blood that flushed his cheeks. He felt sore and tired but of all the things, he felt weak. He bent his head lower between his knees huffing out and pulling that oxygen back in as he wiped his face in the crook of his elbow before looking back out at the gymnasium. That eerily large and vast gym that had held the best but also some of his worst memories. He felt small. Broken.  _

_ Someone slid onto the bench beside him but Ian just continued to look at the red the gear that hung framed on the walls. All the names of the great players before him. He used to feel like he was on his way to being one of them a long time ago. Well, not that long ago but before the fall. The minute people would start filing into a stadium, it was always guaranteed the name Ian Gallagher would be amongst their murmurs. Everyone grinning and cheering out of excitement because they all just wanted to see his greatness in person. Yet here he sat, a few weeks just short of a year since he’d had his second surgery and he felt like he’d never played the sport before. A firm strong hand gripped his shoulder around his back, the touch felt good and Ian just wanted to lean into it but now wasn’t the place or the time.  _

_ “Are you okay?” Mickey’s voice was as smooth as butter and everything Ian needed in that moment. _

_ Ian couldn’t answer though. He steadied his elbow on his knees and continued to look at the shining wooden floors and scoreboard, “I used to watch Kobe when I was a kid and I always told myself I wanna be just like him. I never told anyone about my dreams until one day I said fuck it and told my dad. You know what he told me when I said I wanted to play basketball?”  _

_ “No,” Mickey could only stare at Ian’s profile drinking in his beauty while the redhead picked it apart. _

_ “He said, there’s two things wrong with that dream. One, you’re not black. And two you’re weak,” Ian finally turned his face to let his eyes fall on the man Ian would easily deem as the most beautiful man to exist, “Maybe he was right.” _

_ “Firstly, he’s a racist prick. Secondly, there is no fucking way, Frank fucking Gallagher is right about anything in this world. Maybe about you not being black,” Mickeys said teasingly to gain a smile from Ian, it worked, “but you’re nothing close to weak, Ian. If you were weak, you’d still be in that wheelchair you got at home too scared to make a move to get better. But you’re not. The minute shit got fucked up and pushed you back, you were ready to power through and start again as soon as possible. You are not weak, Ian. I believe in you. You got this.” Mickey squeezed Ian’s shoulder.  _

_ Mickey removed his arm from around his boyfriend’s shoulders and stood up, “I’ll go talk to Coach Platt, tell him we’re done for the day.” Mickey walked out the gym toward the Coach’s office while Ian sat staring up at where the teams photo hung proudly.  _

_ It had only been his fifth time back on the court since he popped his knee but Ian couldn’t have felt more alienated in a sport he’d spent years owning. He was expected to make a debut for his first quarter in two weeks and Ian felt like he wasn’t even capable of making five minutes. He sighed heavily hanging his head before wiping down his face. He knew his head wasn’t in the game, and he knew exactly why. The weight of the lie he carried on his back was starting to hold him back. Every time he looked at Mickey with the intention of telling him what was happening, he’d see the brunette smile and he’d feel guilty to be the one to take that happiness away from him. He kept telling himself that if he could just deal with Jensen and resolve it all before telling Mickey, then the brunette would have no reason to be upset. The only problem was that, Ian had no fucking clue how to go about dealing with it. His biggest worry was that Jensen would release the engagement story before Ian could gather up the courage to tell Mickey.  _

_ “Platt said we’re all good to leave. I called you an Uber.” Mickey said approaching Ian, “It’ll be here in five. Go get changed. We can meet tomorrow to discuss some techniques and progress.” Ian didn’t mistake the forced professionalism in Mickey’s voice as he approached and when he looked up he saw Coach Platt trailing behind Mickey _ .  _ He didn’t worry though. He knew he and the brunette had plans to spend their night together like they always did. _

_ *Present day* _

Ian felt his own lips curl up into a smile as he sent a text off to his lover thanking him, letting him know how much he missed him and that he had just as much faith that Mickey’s first day would be nothing short of spectacular. Just as Ian was about to plug his phone in to charge and try to get some rest his phone vibrated again with a text from Fiona.

** _Fiona:_ ** _ Turn the news on. NOW! _

Ian abruptly sat up grabbing the television remote off the nightstand and turning it on before switching to the news. Ian’s heart immediately clenched and his stomach dropped.

> ** _NBA legend Kobe Bryant dies at 41 in a helicopter crash._ **

Fuck.

Ian doesn’t know how long he sat there staring at the screen before his phone vibrated. He quickly glanced to the lit up screen and he relaxed further into his mattress as he swiped the call open and put the phone to his ear. 

“Hey, Mick.” 

“Hey,” Mickey’s voice was hesitant until he sighed, “I just heard. Are you okay?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how to believe it.” One lone tear slid down the side of his face and into his pillow.

“Fuck, I wish I was with you right now.” Mickey sounded worried.

“Fuck, he’s really gone. Just like that.” Kobe Bryant had been Ian’s hero for as long as he could remember. He’d closely followed his career from the minute he’d known who the man was and just how good he was. He wanted to be a legend like him but more so a hero. Ian could feel his heart hurt like if he’d lost a brother. 

“I love you. I don’t really know what else I’m supposed to say. I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

“No, you should go to sleep. We both should. Big day tomorrow. I just wanna go to bed. I don’t want to think about this.”

“Okay, I-I’ll call you before your game okay?”

“Yeah I look forward to it. Love you Mick.”

“Love you too.”

***

The locker rooms were quiet as they all got dressed for the game they all thought shouldn’t even be taking place. It was a friendly, not like it really needed to take place but their coach had insisted that Kobe wouldn’t want any basketball game to be cancelled on account of him. Ian kept looking at his phone as he slipped into his uniform and applied his athletic tape to his knee. It was only twenty more minutes until the game and Mickey hadn’t called like he promised he would. Rationally, Ian should be thinking the brunette was just busy with his own first day but Ian Gallagher was hardly ever a rational guy. Worry and insecurity began to fester until there was a firm hand gripping his shoulder. Ian turned in his seat with one sock halfway onto his foot to find a couple of guys from his team. 

“I know a lot of shit is going on right now but we all wanted to tell you congratulations, man. Even though it’s a real dark time for us we’re glad some light is coming out of it. And we hope everything works out for you.” Kennedy smiled.

“Thanks guys, I really appreciate that.” 

Before Ian knew it Coach Platt was calling them out of the lockers. Ian looked back reluctantly at his phone before slamming the locker shut and heading out behind everyone else. Everyone he passed that belonged to the Bulls family congratulated them and it spiked Ian’s excitement. He was really doing this. He was finally getting back onto the court and even though it was just for a quarter it was something he should celebrate. He was doing this for himself, for Mickey, for Kobe. 

They walked out onto the court in a much more solemn way than usual and stood as the anthem was sung, a tribute was played for Kobe and a moment of silence was observed.

“Today is a day that a lot of us don’t really know how to deal with our feelings. You know, we’ve been in a state of shock since last night I think but I don’t think Kobe would want us to give up the one thing that always made sense for him. The game. So that’s why we’re here. To celebrate his life, to celebrate basketball, and to celebrate the awaited return of Ian Gallagher.” 

The crowd gave a subdued applause as the announced continued, “Who I believe congratulations are also in order for. Ian, congratulations on your engagement, we can’t wait to be invited to the wedding.” and just like that Ian understood why Mickey never called him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	22. Securing My Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have a nice life, Ian. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Happy February. 
> 
> So here is Chapter 22, I'm specified that this is going to be 30 chapters, that's my plan but idk if that'll change. I do hope you all are enjoying this, lol well the few of you who are still reading.
> 
> i look forward to you comments, it seriously motivates me.

_ Two days before. _

The new cotton sheets were sticking to Ian’s skin, the bed was rocking on its frame and the room was filled with the heavy pants and whispered cries of love and praise. Ian had one freckled arm below Mickey’s pillow reaching up to grip tightly to the wooden slats of the headboard while his other hand gripped firmly around Mickey’s waist pulling him closer again and again. The redhead’s face was tucked into the crook of the doctor’s neck, his lips lavishing the flushed skin. “Ian,” Mickey’s voice was raw and filled with emotion as he gripped tightly to his pillow, moaning with every thrust of Ian’s hips. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Ian whispered against Mickey’s neck, “I’m gonna miss you so much, Mick.” Ian angled his hips to drive into Mickey more purposefully hit just the right spot sending his lover into a moaning mess as he came undone pulling Ian over the edge with him.

“Three fucking weeks. We could do it, right?” Mickey’s breath was labored as he rolled onto his side and into Ian’s body.

“Yeah. We could. Gonna be tough as shit though. You got me hooked, Doctor Milkovich.” Ian teased tickling into Mickey’s sides sending the brunette into a fit of laughter.

_ Present Day. _

Twenty minutes seemed to fly by so quickly while still crawling by. Ian had just been going through the motions of the game. Hardly aware of anything else around him. The crowd was too loud and they all blurred into one big mass. The cheering was deafening and Ian’s mind spun periodically while he tried to gain his balance. He barely paid any time or mind to the pauses in the game; the time outs and calls for fouls. He was hardly aware until Casey slapped his back pulling him close leading him away from the court and to the locker rooms at the end of the first quarter with a concerned look in his eyes..

The sour taste of bile crept up his throat and his head felt light like he was about to collapse. He kept his head down while members of the media who had all access passes swarmed him keeping his focus on just getting to the locker rooms before he could throw up. 

Keeping his gaze trained to the shiny tiled floors, the first thing he saw were those pretentious brown leather Oxfords. Anger surged through his body as he looked up locking eyes with his barbarian of a manager. Before he knew it his feet were pushing forward and his hands were colliding with Jensen’s chest and he slammed him against a wall. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” 

He pushed him harder against the wall, his fists slamming against the blond’s chest. “You fucking liar! You ruined everything! Do you know what you’ve done?”

Ian was being ripped away by his friends strong arms and carried toward the locker room before he knew it leaving a hallway filled with confused but intrigued journalists. “Hey, hey. Ian! Calm down.” Casey had his two arms locked around the redhead’s torso holding him back as Ian watched Jensen walk into the locker room. The team all turned their attention to the wailing redhead and the blonde manager. Ian finally gave in to his friends grip sagging pathetically in his arms. “Come on. Let’s take you to the conference room.” 

“What’s the point in hiring that good for nothing doctor if you’re gonna play like shit anyway?” Jensen teased walking into the conference room and shutting the door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Casey asked coming to Ian’s defense as the redhead sulked into a chair with tears streaming down his face.”

“This doesn’t concern you. Please leave.” Jensen stepped aside waiting for Casey to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere. How could you constantly sell lies and sleep okay at night?”

Jensen puffed his chest out and got closer to Casey’s face, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” 

“Stop.” Ian’s voice was weak, “just fucking stop. I told you I needed time to think. Why would you release that story today of all days?”

“Because we were getting pushed to the sidelines. Today was supposed to be the day when you face and my name, Orion Management’s name was supposed to be in the headlines. Not that fucking retired old fuck. He’s dead, ain’t nothing they could do about that. I just needed to make sure your name was news.This announcement was the only way to do that.” If Ian was in any better frame of mind he bet he'd have seen Jensen frothing at the mouth.

“You’re fucking sick you know that? Someone died. A man who paved the way for so many others in the sport. A good man. And you’re too worried about his name taking yours in the paper? You need some serious help.” Ian said pushing out of his chair and out the room with Carey hot on his heels. 

“I’m leaving through the back. Just tell Coach. I’m not feeling so hot. And that I need to check in with Dr Chavez.”

“Dr Chavez?” 

“Yeah, Mickey’s friend who’s looking after my case while he’s gone.” Ian shoved his clothing into his bag while he sent Fiona a text to meet him out back with his car.

“Hey you gonna be okay?”

Ian sighed heavily, “I don’t know. I may have just lost the love of my life.”

  
  


***

His cellphone had rung for the twelfth time in five minutes while Mickey stared at the television in his hotel room. He had no clue what he was watching or what time it was. But he knew he’d been sitting there since he handed off his responsibilities to his colleague for the night. Mickey grabbed up his phone, ended the call and looked at the page his phone’s browser was opened to. 

> ** _Chicago Bulls point guard Ian Gallagher and his longtime girlfriend set to tie the knot._ **

He could finally sit and analyse and really take apart every part of the article because he was alone. He’d been minding his own business earlier in the day, meeting with the rest of the medical team for lunch while some of the other games were being set up for the day. Mickey was elbow deep in the greasiest burger he could find while his colleagues laughed at some new meme one of them had found on Facebook. Until they weren’t laughing anymore. “Holy shit!” One of them had exclaimed.

“What?” Mickey asked hardly ever interested. 

“Isn’t Ian Gallagher your client?” A skinny dark skinned resident asked. 

At that point Mickey couldn’t help the flutter in his chest that he got from just hearing his boyfriend’s name, “Uh Yeah, he is.” 

“Well he just got engaged to that exotic dancer he’s been dating on and off for a couple years.” She turned her cellphone toward him, “they’re so cute aren’t they?” 

Mickey had to save face when he wanted to do nothing more than role himself into a foetal position and cry his eyes out. “Oh wow, sure. They are.” He said hoping his face didn’t show how much seeing that picture of Ian and Annabeth holding hands while they sat having coffee together, ripped his heart to shreds. 

Now though, he could really let the tears he’d hold back flow freely. He wiped aggressively at his face. 

His phone spurred to life again with another call, the image of a grinning redhead appearing. Mickey sighed, swiping the call open. “What?”

“Mick?” 

“The fuck do you want?” Mickey asked, sounding cold and angry.

“Mick...it’s not true. It’s the same thing as the last time. I’m gonna handle it. Please you have to believe me. I didn’t think Jensen would actually sell this story.”

Anger boiled from deep within, “You’re telling me you knew about this shit and didn’t tell me?”

“I-I told him I’ll think about it but only to buy some time. It’s not that simple Mick. Anna...she’s pregnant for this guy she’s been seeing and Jensen threatened her. I was trying to figure out a way to get us all out of it.”

“We’re supposed to face this kind of shit together Ian. Not you and her. You and me. But...I guess you are way closer to her than you let on huh?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I saw the article dumbass. I saw the pictures of you and her on your date. You know I knew you were in the closet but just because you are, doesn’t mean you have to date women. Thought you’d give up that player life once you and I had our thing going. Look, I get it. I just can’t live a secret for the rest of my life. And I refuse to be someone’s side piece. Have a nice life, Ian.” He abruptly ended the call, throwing the phone onto the bed and then making his way to the mini bar. If he was getting through the night he needed some booze. 

***

The minute the call ended Ian slipped on his hoodie and denim jacket, grabbed his baseball cap that hung by the door and headed out into the night. He just needed to clear his head. Take a minute to breathe. He hadn’t expected his day to go to such shit so quickly but it seemed as though Ian’s big days always went to shit. The air was cold as he walked the semi busy streets of the northside heading in the direction of the L. The first time Jensen has tried this Ian had been genuinely scared that he’d lost Mickey but then the doctor was so understanding once Ian had told him what really happened. But not this time. 

Mickey was hurt and angry and Ian understood why he’d feel like that. Ian lied. He should have just grown a pair and told Mickey what was really going on instead of keeping it all a fucking secret hoping to resolve it on his own. Mickey was hurt and Ian was to blame for it. He climbed the platform of the L and sighed when he noticed he wouldn’t have to wait for the train. He made his way to the almost empty car and waited to be taken toward the only person who he went to when he felt like his world was falling apart. 

When Fiona yanked their old Southside home’s door open she looked tired but more so worried when she saw her little brother with his red brimmed eyes and swollen red nose. “What the hell are you doing out right now? You told me you just wanted to be alone.” She said as she ushered him inside and toward the couch. 

“I called him.” Ian said falling into the couch, “he told me to have a nice life. He fucking hates me Fi.” 

She sighed looking at her little brother with those soft motherly eyes before she sat beside him leaning into him, “He’s hurt. That’s understandable. Give him some time.” 

“Yeah, and do what in the meanwhile? You know, I’ve realised since he came into my life, he’s become everything to me. I can’t just walk away and hope he moves past it one day. I’ll give him time if that’s what he wants but...what do I do in the meanwhile?”

“You secure your future Ian. It’s falling apart. There’s reports of you attacking you manager, and an engagement that no one knows isn’t real. You need to do something to secure everything you’ve worked for.” 

Ian sighed taking a sip of the bottled water on the coffee table. He isn’t sure whose it is but it could only be one of his siblings now that both his parents are dead. 

“Come on, you look like shit. Let’s get you to bed.”

“No, I should just go home.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m letting you leave with the way you are right now. Come on, I’ll make your old bed for you.”

By the time his older sister had retired to her own room and Ian was laying in nothing but his underwear under the same sheets he used when he was just fifteen years old, Ian still hadn’t started feeling any better.  _ Secure your future.  _ His sister’s words kept blaring loudly in his mind. 

_ Have a nice life, Ian.  _

Ian never felt like he’d lost Mickey more than in that moment. The same Mickey that was so understanding and willing to hear his side of everything the first time Jensen had fucked him over, just didn’t want to give Ian the time of day again. And Ian knew the hole he was currently six feet under was his own doing and he should just give Mickey time. But maybe Fiona was right. Maybe he needed to secure his future. He sat up in bed grabbing at his phone that laid on the nightstand and brought the bright screen to life. He thumbed through his contacts until he saw the name that made his stomach drop. He hesitated before hearing Fiona’s voice in his head once again forcing him to dial. 

“What?” The voice was cold but smug.

“It’s me, Ian.”

“What do you want?” 

“I’ll do it. I’ll go through with the engagement. Set the conference up.”

“What made you change your mind?”

Ian sighed, “I’m securing my future. No need in fighting it anymore.”


	23. What Does That Make Us?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’ve always been a weepy drunk. Mandy had told him that once when they were teenagers and they were sitting under the L, nursing a bottle of Jack, both sporting reddening bruises around their eyes or cheeks, Mandy with a broken nose. It was after they had gotten their dad angry for who the fuck knows what reason. At least I only do it when I’m drunk enough not to know what the fuck I’m crying for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter 23! 
> 
> 24 is all written and ready to be edited so expect that sometime next week! Happy Weekened i hope you all are doing great and enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> PS sorry for sad mickey

He’d hardly gotten a wink of sleep when his alarm went off at 5:00am. He’d spent the hours after Ian’s phone call sipping one mini bottle from the bar and actively rethinking everything that had happened the twenty four hours prior. Maybe he even considered ways he could turn back time. He thanked his lucky stars when he rolled out of bed and into the shower that he was at least responsible enough the night before not to get shit faced drunk. After all, his job was the only good thing remaining in his life. He turned on his cold shower and let the water cascade down his body. Lima was hotter than Mickey was accustomed to at that time of year, so he spent some time relishing in the cool spray of water as he soaped his body. 

Getting out of the shower and into his clothes for the day Mickey noticed that his phone’s screen lit up with incoming text messages from his sister, Mandy. He sighed dialling her number when he noticed that he had a few minutes before he needed to be down in the lobby with the rest of his team.

“Mickey? Shit, I’ve been trying to call you all night. Are you okay? I was so fucking worried about you”

“Whoa, pace your pickles,” he grunted sitting at the edge of his bed.

“Don’t tell me to fucking pace my pickles. You haven’t answered any of my calls since the news broke, excuse me for being fucking worried about you, dick.” Mickey waited quietly on the other end while Mandy chewed him a new ear. Eventually, when she did stop her ranting he sighed.

“You done?”

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“Peachy,” he threw himself back against the mattress staring up at the beige ceiling. 

“Have you heard from him?” 

“Yeah...have you?” Mickey asked after a beat.

“He tried calling but I didn’t answer him. What the fuck were those pictures anyway? Was he really fucking stepping out on you for the public eye with that fucking skank?” Mandy was getting riled up and Mickey really didn’t have the time or the energy to get into it.

“I don’t fucking know. He says it’s not that and it’s more complicated but how complicated is it to not go out on a date with someone? Fuck. I don’t really have the time to get into it, Mands. I gotta get down to the lobby to meet everyone and go over strategies and protocol for today.”

“Okay. Shoot me a text throughout the day, please. Lemme know you’re good?”

“Yeah...I can do that. Thanks for calling. Jackie tried calling to but I don’t wanna go through it again. Call her and tell her that.”

“Sure, Mick. I’ll call you tonight. See you in two and half weeks…Love you.” Mandy muttered the odd sentiment before quickly shutting the phone off. It wasn’t that Mickey didn’t know Mandy loved him or vice versa, they just never expressed it to each other very often and when they did, they almost always became quickly embarrassed. Mandy’s little whispered promise of love, and that she was there on his side, was enough to tug a small smile onto Mickey’s lips before he pocketed his phone and other personal effects before heading downstairs.

Mickey had thought through everything time and time again since it had happened, and somehow he still couldn’t wrap his mind around exactly how he felt about the whole thing. After the first incident had happened, he and Ian had discussed the possibility of Jensen hiring a date for Ian once again if there was an event he would have to attend and even though Mickey hated the idea, he’d conceded that there wasn’t anything he could do about it. But this was different, wasn’t it? It wasn’t a red carpet event with dozens of cameras, fake smiles, pretentious suits and ball gowns. This was Ian, in his own time sitting in a coffee shop holding hands with a woman who he had claimed was just a friend. This was Ian not telling Mickey he had coffee with Annabeth, or that Jensen had suggested such a preposterous idea, or telling Mickey that Annabeth was pregnant(?) not that Mickey would have cared but still. 

All in all, Mickey was hurt. Sure, he had been angry when he had first seen the news but he was more hurt than anything. Did he believe that Ian was telling the truth that an engagement was entirely Jensen’s idea? Yeah, he did. The blonde manager was a fucking evil twat who preyed on others for fame and money in Mickey’s eyes. But if Mickey was being honest, he wasn’t upset with Ian for a lie Jensen had told. He was upset with Ian for lying to him. For not bringing whatever problems he had to the table for them both to deal with as a couple. He didn’t expect Ian to be shouting from the top of the Sears tower that he was in love with Mickey, but he also didn’t expect him to be willingly going on dates to cover anything up. There were tons of straight people, to Mickey’s knowledge, who weren’t dating anyone. Why couldn’t Ian be like them?

He briefly remembers though, himself as a closeted young teenager on the southside fucking any girl he could, just so his dad wouldn’t look twice at him with any inkling whatsoever that Mickey might be gay. And maybe he got it. He sighed heavily later in the day when he was trudging back up to his hotel room thinking that maybe Ian was feeling like he felt when he was a teenager. Mickey knew all too well what it was like to feel trapped and scared in that deep dark closet that had walls that felt like it was closing in all around you. He knew what it felt like to be in public and find his eyes lingering too long on another man, and snapping out of it hoping to God no one had noticed and no one would call him out for it. So over the course of Mickey’s day, maybe his anger with Ian’s little coffee dates dissipated momentarily. But the fact of the matter was, Ian had still lied to Mickey. The one person who was on his side no matter what. 

Before Mickey could get back to his hotel room, he received a text from one of the girls on the medical team begging him to join them all for drinks since they had a day of rest the next day. Maybe a couple drinks wouldn’t hurt anyone. So Mickey made his way to the hotel bar ready to just drown his heartache and then maybe get a good fucking night’s rest.

After a few shots of tequila, and several beers, it was safe to say that Mickey was more than a little bit tipsy. He had extricated himself from the rest of his colleagues and stumbled his way to the elevator, leaning heavily into the mirrored walls until it dinged at his floor. Mickey just needed to get to his room, and his bed before the alcohol started to bring out his weepy side. 

_ You’ve always been a weepy drunk. _ Mandy had told him once when they were teenagers and they were sitting under the L, nursing a bottle of jack, both sporting reddening bruises around their eyes or cheeks, Mandy with a broken nose. It was after they had gotten their dad angry for who the fuck knows what reason. _ At least I only do it when I’m drunk enough not to know what the fuck I’m crying for. _

But this time, he knew what he was crying for. He was crying because he was just fucking sad. He was crying because he was hurt, because after all was said and done, he’d fallen in love with Ian Gallagher and he didn’t think he’d ever fall out of love with him. It had all happened so unexpectedly. 

The best way he could describe it was that light dusty drizzle of rain that you’d feel one drop, one drop and you’d be vaguely aware of it asking yourself _ Is it raining or am I imagining things? _ And then before you know it, or before you can run and take cover it’s chucking it down like cats and dogs and by the time you get indoors you realised you’re drenched. There isn’t a dry part of you left. That’s what it felt like to fall in love with Ian Gallagher. He had waltzed into the penthouse with the vague awareness that he’d thought the other man was attractive. But before Mickey knew it he was sleeping every night in the arms of the redhead.. He was thinking of him every waking day. He was lying in the middle of a king sized bed in Lima, Peru thinking holy fuck, he couldn’t live without that stupid basketball player. And the mere thought itself scared the ever-living fuck out of Mickey because he didn’t know how they would comeback from this all. What did he really expect of Ian? What did he want Ian to do to make it all better?

He felt almost guilty for that small part of him that wanted Ian to actually just say fuck it and let the whole world know why the headlines were all lies. He shouldn’t want Ian to be thrusted into a situation that made him feel small, scared and vulnerable. But Mickey was only human. And he hated himself a little bit for even wanting it but sue him. He was a guy in love. And when you’re in love, you aren’t rational, because love itself wasn’t rational. It wasn’t fair. It made you want to stand tall and proud and tell everyone hey look, I love this person. I get to call them mine. So maybe it made Mickey awful for wanting that, but he wasn’t going to deny it. He fought with the pockets of his jeans before finally yanking his phone free. 

And he would retire to bed that night knowing he’d have the world’s worst hangover the next morning, but knowing his heart was free...and honest.

** _Mickey: _ ** _ I wish things weren’t this complicated and we were just two guys living in a quiet town where no one gave a fuck about us. Just being us. Happy. Free. But we’re not and shit is so fucking messy. I don’t hate you. It’s quite the opposite I’m just hurt. I get being in the spotlight is hard but if you can’t trust me to face this shit head on as a couple with you...what does that make us? _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	24. I love her...I do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you all for coming out here today on such short notice. A few days ago, an article surfaced announcing the news of Annabeth and my engagement. Annabeth and I saw it fitting to come forward and speak to you firstly to address the announcement of such a big step in our lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! 
> 
> Sorry for leaving you in a cliffhanger last chapter, I promise it will pay off. This chapter was an absolute joy to write. It's a big one! Not in length but in context. I do hope you all enjoy where I am taking this story and I can't wait for you all to read the next 6 chapters that will bring this story to a close.
> 
> I love hearing all your kind words and how much you enjoy this fic so please let me know what you think of this chapter. hope you all are having a good week so far. Hopefully I will be posting another chapter really soon...I'm hoping this weekend. We'll see 😉💜

The first thing he became aware of when he came to some time the next day is that he’d forgotten to close the curtains of his hotel room, unwelcomely bringing in the blinding daylight of a midday Lima. The next thing that he registered was the annoyingly incessant vibrating that he was somewhat aware had been going on for a couple hours now. A little bit more awake now, the rattling sound was just making his headache worse. Could his brain hurt? Fuck, he didn’t know what was hurting but it was just getting worse as the minutes dragged on and the vibrating never stopped. He groaned lowly feeling just how fucking dry his throat was, sticking together as he swallowed a couple times before he could figure out what he really needed was some goddamn water. He kicked the sheets away just as the vibrating had stopped, dragging his deadweight body off the bed and toward the fridge where there was cold bottled water. He gulped the entire thing down sighing loudly as he threw the bottle toward the bin, missing his shot entirely. 

Just as he ran a hand through his head pulling at the roots to somehow assuage his headache, the vibrating commenced once again. “Fuck, Alright! I’m coming!” Mickey yelled, instantly regretted it as the sound of his voice made his temples throb tenfold, as he puttered across the room back to his phone where it sat on the nightstand lighting up with a notification of 25 missed calls from Mandy, 29 from Jackie and about 300+ text messages in the group chat his sister and best friend had apparently made while he was passed the fuck out.

He cleared the notifications of the missed calls and ignored the group chat, thumbing his way to his thread of texts with Mandy alone. Sitting at the top of the slew of messages from that night was a link to a Youtube video. Mickey’s heart rate picked up pace as a lump formed in his throat when he saw the thumbnail for the video was Ian sitting at a table with about ten microphones pointing at him, the Chicago Bulls printed behind him, and the obvious tears filling the redhead’s eyes.  _ Chicago Bull Star, Ian Galla... _

***

His hands were sweaty as he stood behind the drawn curtains wringing at his fingers and darting his eyes around. He was really going to do this. He sighed heavily as he felt his phone vibrate against his thigh in his jeans pocket. When he swiped the phone open he saw one message from Fiona. 

** _Fiona:_ ** _ Are you sure you want to do this? Are you ready to live a lie forever? To walk down the aisle with someone you don’t love while the man you love hurts over this? Because if that’s the case Ian, I don’t know you at all. _

He sighed. He loved his sister but in this all she really did show who’s side she was on. It made him wonder when exactly did his sister really fall for his (ex?)boyfriend and became his number one supporter.

He stilled himself as he closed the message thread coming face to face with the message Mickey had sent the previous night. He sighed and opened Mickey’s text not even bothering to respond to Fiona.

** _Mickey: _ ** _ I wish things weren’t this complicated and we were just two guys living in a quiet town where no one gave a fuck about us. Just being us. Happy. Free. But we’re not and shit is so fucking messy. I don’t hate you. It’s quite the opposite I’m just hurt. I get being in the spotlight is hard but if you can’t trust me to face this shit head on as a couple with you...what does that make us?  _

Guilt flourished within Ian at that moment. He never meant to hurt Mickey, he never meant to break the trust that they had. But Mickey was right, they weren’t living in a town where no one gave a shit. Everything was very real and very messy and sometimes people had to do things they didn’t want to come out on top.

A hand gripped at Ian’s elbow forcefully causing him to turn looking into angry yet sad wet eyes. Annabeth clenched her jaw as she glared at the redhead, “This is your way of fixing things, Ian? What? Are we gonna tie the knot and then get a divorce before or after the baby is born? Or are you and Jensen planning to say the kid is yours? Well it’ll shock you all ‘cause this baby’s daddy isn’t white. What the fuck is wrong wi-”

“On in five.” one of the news guys said sticking his head through the curtain cutting Annabeth’s rant off. 

Ian looked at her sadly before wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek as he watched some crew members from the four o’clock news watching. “Do you trust me?” he whispered before pulling back as they were being ushered toward the noise of dozens of media personnel just on the other side of the curtain.

***

Ian looked nervous as far as Mickey could tell as he walked out hand in hand with the strawberry blonde. She was beautiful, Mickey would give her that, and even if he didn’t know her, he could tell she wasn’t happy. She looked angry almost as she took a seat beside Ian shooting him a short lived glare. Ian cleared his throat before tapping nervously on the microphone directly in front of him, “Thank you,” he cleared his throat again, “Thank you all for coming out here today on such short notice. A few days ago, an article surfaced announcing the news of Annabeth and my engagement. Annabeth and I saw it fitting to come forward and speak to you firstly to address the announcement of such a big step in our lives.” he turned his head looking at the blonde who faked a smile. “I’ve known Annabeth for a long time now. And I love her...I do.” Mickey felt a pit in his stomach as he lowered himself to sit at the edge of the bed, his hands gripping tightly into the phone. 

“We’ve shared some really good times together over the years, and we became friends pretty quickly after meeting. But...that’s all we are. Friends. Annabeth and I would like to let you know, the article released with an exclusive of our engagement, was false. As I said, I love Annabeth but I’m not  _ in love _ with her. She knows this. My family knows this. I...I’m gay. And I’m in love with someone else.” Mickey felt his face flush and his cheeks pulsate as tears sprung from his eyes.

“I get how some of you may feel after hearing this… that I’ve been lying to you, and for that I am greatly sorry. But I was scared.” Mickey watched as the tears formed in the love of his life’s eyes and Annabeth hugged him as he sniffled, “I grew up on the Southside, being told that gay men can’t be in sports. I’d like to change that.” Ian wiped at his eyes.

“Moving forward I am breaching my contract with Orion Management by severing any and all relationships with them before the end of my contract. I intend on paying the fifteen million dollar value of the contract that is required when such a contract is broken. I have had enough of the lies and falsehoods being sold under my name by my now  _ former _ manager Jensen Green. I will be taking no further questions. Thank you for your time.” the redhead quickly got up as he was bombarded with questions and walked away followed by Annabeth and a raging Jensen while Mickey sat in his hotel room with tears rolling down his cheeks as he stayed frozen in one place.

He isn’t sure how long exactly he sat there gnawing at the loose skin around his nails, scrolling through the thread of messages his sister and best friend had sent arguing about the lack of his presence. It could have been minutes or hours he sat there wondering if the newscast from exactly ten hours before was even real. But by the time there was a knock at his door and he was yanked out of his thoughts, he noticed that it had turned to night outside and he was still sitting in his underwear. He quickly grabbed a t-shirt from the top of his suitcase and shrugged it on as he made his way to the door. He ran a hand carelessly through his hair before yanking the door open gasping and freezing for the second time that day.

“Hey Mick,” his voice was croaky and honestly he looked like hell, but Mickey would bet a million bucks that he, himself, looked worse. Mickey felt the tears return, slightly obscuring his vision of the tall redhead athlete with red brimmed, puffy eyes, a pink nose and a weak smile spread across his face.

“Hey.”


	25. Underlying Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The fuck you doing here?” Mickey asked moving to stand by the window that gave him a view of the nightlife that buzzed through Lima, refusing to look Ian in the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I've been meaning to update for so long now but I've really been going through it.
> 
> I have some medical issues that have been so bad lately and I've just been in so much pain. I had like 5 assignments last week and my dog's really ill. I've been writing slowly and I'm hoping to post a part to my post wedding series tomorrow. so look out for that. i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i did writing it. 
> 
> hope you're all doing well and having a great week.

Maybe it was the fact that Ian hadn’t seen Mickey in four days, or maybe it was that he had been so busy preparing himself to fly to Lima and make his epic groveling apology, but he’d somehow forgotten just how breathtakingly gorgeous Mickey Milkovich was in the flesh. Especially when he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He looked more disheveled than Ian had ever remembered him looking but his eyes were still that icy blue that still felt warm and inviting to Ian despite their wintry colour. His lips were still that delectable shade of pink that got a little bit darker to the center where Ian was sure he’d been chewing them raw sometime in the recent past. His skin was smooth and pale as ever, contrasting beautifully with the stark blackness of his fluffed up, thick locks that was sticking up in every which way that Ian could only describe as fucking cute. So despite the hurt, and copious amounts of tears shed between them both in the past two days, Ian couldn’t help the little quirk of the corners of his lips at the sight of the man Ian had no doubt in his mind he loved. 

“Hey,” Mickey’s voice was husky and raw like it would be when he now woke up, or if he was so engrossed in one of his books, he hadn’t spoken for a couple hours. 

“I’m sorry, Mick,” was the first words blurted out his mouth and maybe he hadn’t planned so say it not so eloquently but it was Mickey and Mickey knew that Ian was the least eloquent person there was.

And before Ian could launch into all the reasons why Mickey should forgive him or even ask if he could be invited into Mickey’s suite, two rough but warm hands gripped tightly at the collar of his thin cotton shirt and pulled him forward while those plump cushions of lips were being pressed into his own with a hungry force that had Ian dropping the duffel bag he had hanging on his shoulder to the floor so his hands could get on Mickey. Ian’s hands couldn’t decide where to stay and they roamed aimlessly down Mickey’s back then back up locking Mickey in a tight embrace as Ian lost himself in the feel of Mickey. In that very Mickey smell, that Mickey heat. He relaxed into the other man as Mickey’s tongue licked at the seam of his lips begging for consent. Ian parted his own in a gasp welcoming Mickey’s tongue eagerly, slipping his own tenderly within the wet warmth of Mickey’s mouth. Mickey emitted a guttural groan that he usually would whenever Ian slipped his tongue out only to suck at his bottom lip. 

Just as quickly as it had started though, it was over and Ian was being pushed back by two tattooed hands pressing flat against his chest. 

“Fuck,” Mickey whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Ian said quickly.

“Don’t fucking apologize for kissing me. I kissed you.” Mickey bit out a bit more harshly than Ian was prepared for before walking further into the suite leaving Ian in the doorway, “Are you gonna stand there with your dick in your hand all night or…” Ian quickly grabbed up his bag shutting the door behind him and walking into the room taking in the sight of what was supposed to Mickey’s home for the next two and half weeks. 

“Nice place,” he awkwardly commented while Mickey yanked his mini fridge open gabbing two beers and holding one out to Ian. The redhead smiled tightly shaking his head then accepting the soda being offered, muttering a soft thanks.

“The fuck you doing here?” Mickey asked moving to stand by the window that gave him a view of the nightlife that buzzed through Lima, refusing to look Ian in the eye.

“I...I came here to tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you, for making you feel like we weren’t a couple who dealt with shit together, for...for not telling you about everything... about Jensen’s engagement idea. To tell you...that I love you.”

Mickey shook his head still looking out the window and Ian wished he’d just fucking look at him. 

“I uh...I don’t know if you heard but...I came out.” Ian said still standing awkwardly watching Mickey drain his beer bottle and belch.

Mickey then turned, looking Ian in the eye, “I was never mad that you were in the closet.”

“I-I know...but I did it...I was tired of hiding, I did it for you. For us...for me.” Ian felt his eyes heat up as the tears welled obscuring his vision slightly. “It was fucking scary.”

It was then Mickey started to move. He crossed the room placing his bottle on the coffee table and approached Ian, stretching his arms out inviting the teary eyed redhead. Ian fell into him sniffling as he buried his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. They held each other longer than probably normal but Ian wasn’t complaining. Mickey placed a chaste kiss on Ian's neck before pulling back to look at him, “We gotta talk… like really talk about this shit.” 

Ian nodded eagerly as Mickey took his duffel bag and placed it to the corner of his room beside his own and motioned for Ian to sit with him on the couch.

They were silent, just listening to their steady breaths as it filled the room, neither knowing where they were supposed to start. Mickey, breathed in deeply blurting the one question that had been circling his mind since the night of Ian’s call.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ian ran a hand down his face turning so that he was facing Mickey with one leg propped under himself, “I wanted to. I really really did. But you got this job, and you were so fucking happy, I didn’t know how to burst that bubble. I didn’t want to be the reason you weren’t happy anymore, Mick.”

“But...didn’t you trust me? Trust that we’d face it together and it will all be fine? I would have been fine if we faced shit together, Ian, no matter the outcome as long as we’re on the same side when the dust fucking settles.” Mickey’s eyes became red brimmed and he blinked a couple times before looking away and then back at Ian as he bit into his bottom lip.

“I was trying to play the fucking hero. I’ll admit that. I wanted to just solve it before I had to tell you,” Ian paused biting at his lip causing Mickey to furrow his brows.   
  


“Just say what you want to fucking say, Gallagher.” Mickey knew him too well.

“I wanted to do something to make us equal.”

Mickey’s furrowed eyebrows stayed low before climbing high in record time before he fixed Ian with this look that Ian honestly couldn’t understand what the fuck it meant. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“I...I always feel less than you. Like, you show up in my life, this knight in scrubs, and you make everything better, you helped with my therapy, you cooked, you fucking stayed around when you didn’t have to while I was too fucking depressed to move. You did all those nice fucking things for me and I... what have I given to you? I wanted to do something, that was for the sake of us. Fixing shit on my own was that. And I know, I sound dumb saying it but it’s how I feel. Because you met me when I was broken but I’m walking now but you know what? I’m still fucking broken. I’m always going to be.”

“Ian…”

“Don’t give me that look, Mick. I don’t need pity right now.” Ian huffed turning his body forward looking away from Mickey like a petulant child.

Mickey rolled his eyes, scooting closer turning and throwing his legs to lay over Ian’s lap, bringing his face close to Ian’s, “You’re such a big baby sometimes, you know that?” Ian huffed again.

“Ay, bitch. Look at me,” when Ian looked at Mickey through the corner of his eyes Mickey shook his head, “Fuckever, don’t look. I don’t pity you. You think I’d stick around if there wasn’t anything in this for me? You gave me a friend, love, happiness. You make me laugh, you do small things you think I don’t notice like leaving books under the coffee table that you’ve already read knowing I’d find it and want to read it. You make sure my deodorant is always at the front of the shelf when stay over and you know I have to leave for early shifts. You keep buying fucking coffee even though you haven’t drank the shit in three years simply because I do. I love you, Ian. You bring so much to this and you don’t even have a fucking clue. You make me feel like I fucking matter.” Ian had slowly turned looking Mickey in his eyes. “You hurt me, really fucking bad. But I forgive you, because I love you, Ian. More than you'll ever know. I don’t need my own fucking Captain America. I just need you.”

“Fuck. You see? I had this whole fucking plan to come here, and give you this epic speech about how I love you and you’re my everything and here we are, you waxing poetic about me even though I’m the one who hurt you.”

“A whole speech huh?” Mickey teased, “Well don’t leave me waiting. Let me hear it.”

Ian blushed looking away, “Well now I feel stupid,” they both chuckled until Ian turned seriously to Mickey, “I really love you, Mick. And I’m sorry. I think I don’t deserve to be loved by someone like you. But you do love me and I’d be a fool to waste that.” 

Mickey nodded leaning his head forward and kissing Ian’s lips chastely.

“So you really came out huh?”

“Fuck, I really did.”

“How do you feel?” Mickey asked, looping his arms around Ian’s neck.

“Good. Free.” Ian leaned forward kissing Mickey’s lips gently again. He’d gone only a few days without that feeling but four days was too much if you asked him.

They continued to kiss at each other’s lips, getting lost in the feel of each other’s warmth and smell and pressing their bodies as close as they could possible get to each other.

Suddenly Mickey’s suite phone began ringing from its place on the corner table beside the couch. Both men groaned against each other's lips before Mickey reached to answer.

Ian watched as Mickey took the call, answering some questions saying something about steak before he placed the phone back in its place. He climbed off of Ian despite his lover’s protests, “Do you have to work?”

“No, today was my day off. And that was room service, they’re bringing dinner up in about ten. We get free food with the job. I’m gonna shower, you kinda caught me deep in a hangover and last night’s clothes.” he ruffled Ian’s hair heading to the shower leaving Ian to look around the room. He kicked his shoes off and looked around the fairly large suite that was a light beige colour and spacious. His eyes landed on the large king sized bed that sat to the other side of the room, adorned with white sheets and Mickey’s grey blanket he’d packed when he was leaving Chicago. Ian padded over running his fingers over the softness of the blanket he had spent many nights wrapped up in back home in Chicago. He looked toward the bathroom door that was shut. He could hear the muffled sounds of the shower going knowing Mickey wouldn’t be long. He collapsed onto the bed burying his face into Mickey’s blanket, losing himself in the way it smelled so much like Mickey. He checked his phone while laying down and shut off a message to Mandy letting her know he had found the room.

“I swear to God, I don’t like cold showers at home but they’re unworldly here,” Mickey said as he walked out towelling his damp hair as he sported a snug pair boxers.

He looked around the living area noticing Ian’s absence before turning his attention to the bed, his lips split into the mischievous grin Ian loved so much, “Comfy right?”

Just then there was a knock at the door and Mickey was making his way to the door to collect the food, giving Ian an eyeful with the way his boxers hugged his ass. Ian just couldn't wait to sink his teeth into him.

Dinner was spent with both men sitting beside each other on the couch watching television but never really paying much mind to what was actually showing. Instead they stole glances at each other and casually let their shoulders brush the other’s until they’d cleared their plates and piled it onto the room service cart, rolling it outside the room. By the time Ian came back in after placing the cart just outside the room, Mickey had turned the television off and slipped himself beneath the sheets of the king sized bed waiting for Ian. Ian slipped his jeans and Henley off and before following the lead of the doctor.

He allowed the warm sheets that smelled of Mickey to envelope him as he scooted closer to the other man pressing their bodies closer together to leave 75% of the kind mattress empty. Ian let the fears he’d felt earlier in the day drain away from his body when he lay back into the mattress and let Mickey’s body drape over his the way it had countless times before in the comforts of his penthouse. And when his trembling fingers traversed the length of Mickey’s bare back, he contagiously shared his chills with the other man pressing nervous fingertips into the goose-bumped skin of Mickey’s lower back. 

Ian felt a heat break out against his skin as Mickey licked into his mouth and gripped his strong fingers at the nape of Ian’s neck pulling the redhead impossible closer like he wanted to become one with him. And essentially that’s what they became that night, in a foreign land, beneath cotton sheets, slipping ungraciously out of their underwear as quickly as they could and pressing their skin together. Ian felt tears prickle his eyes when he pinned Mickey to the bed under his weight and pushed into his lover. And he couldn’t bear to hide anymore. Not when Mickey reached his hand up to cup at Ian’s jaw and locked his blue eyes with Ian’s, swallowing every whisper Ian sang of how much he loved Mickey. So he let himself cry that night and snuggle against the column of Mickey’s neck long after their groans and high had subsided because he knew he could always be himself with Mickey. No matter how vulnerable he felt or exposed he was safe as long as it was with Mickey. 

***

Growing up under Fiona’s rule of thumb Ian had become well acquainted with underlying messages or instructions. It was something all his siblings had learnt in order to get by everyday or to survive the presence of their parents. It used to be small words Fiona would tell them that they’d know would mean something else. “Don’t forget the pancake mix,” was a famous one of hers that meant don’t forget to add your weekly contribution to the squirrel fund so they wouldn’t go hungry during the winter. 

When he’d come out to her when he was only fifteen years old after he and Lip had gotten pinched for driving a stolen car, she’d told him, “You’re still on my shitlist.” And Ian knew it meant she’d never look at him differently because it, she loved him just the same. As they got older she’d occasionally give them the watch and they’d know it either meant, keep an eye out for Debbie or Carl. Or when she was sipping a beer and one of them was about to leave the house, she’d shake the bottle at them and he knew it meant to pick up an extra six pack on his way from work. 

When he’d made the decision that he’d remain in the closet for the sake of basketball, she waltzed into his bedroom looked at him in the eye and said, “Don’t keep your journal on the bottom shelf, it’s the first place people look.” That one had taken him a while to catch but when he did he knew it was her way of telling him that if he wanted to pull it off the things he thought he was being sly with were actually pretty fucking obvious and he needed to do better. 

The first time he’d invited Jensen over for dinner when he still lived with her, he’d genuinely thought it had all gone really fucking good until before he went to bed that night Fiona came down the hall checking on everyone like she usually would and gave Ian this risen brown, “Dont put your dirty socks with the clean ones. Sometimes it hard to tell them apart.” Maybe he should have taken his sister’s indirect warning more to heart that one day Jensen would start to stink like a pair of old socks.

That’s what he ends up thinking about when it’s 3am and he’s looking down at Mickey’s peaceful face as the brunette sleeps. When Fiona had told him to secure his future, he knew this is what she meant. Secure Mickey because Mickey was his future. It was that night when he’d called Jensen to set the conference up that he had asked himself, _ Is a career he isn’t even sure he’s good at anymore worth sacrificing his happiness and the one person he truly loves?  _

And lying in bed beside the brunette doctor with their skin pressed against one another and Mickey’s breath fanning steadily against Ian’s chest, he knows. He knows he made the right call. This is the future he wants. This is the forever he’s willing to fight for. To give everything he knows up for, because without Mickey none of all the rest matters. He whispers into the quiet room, “Mick.”

Mickey’s eyebrows furrowed momentarily but relaxed again, “Mickey.”

He nudged the man until he stirred, “Mm?”

“I love you, Mick. More than you’ll ever know. Nothing in my life is worth more than you. I’m gonna make sure I show you that everyday.” He kisses Mickey’s head, “You’re my future.”

Mickey turned his face into Ian’s chest kissing at his bare sternum, before laying his face against him again, “Go to sleep, Red. You can show me in the morning.” Ian smiled against Mickey’s hair before settling again. He’d sworn Mickey had fallen asleep again until the brunette huskily murmured, “I love you too.”


	26. I Choose You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian turned on his heels, grabbing Mickey’s hand, he glanced around at first and noticed they were on a mostly empty street, “We do whatever it takes to protect your job and what you’ve worked for. I would never ask you to give that up. Okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, I feel like every chapter I post, I'm apologizing for taking so long, lol. 
> 
> Hope this update finds you all in good health and strength and that you are all practicing the necessary precautions to not only protect yourselves but those around you who may be at a higher risk. 
> 
> This is the official wind down of The Ball's In Your Court. We have four chapters to go after this and I am excited to wrap it and bring it to an end. i hope you all enjoy this, and that it keeps you occupied if you may be on lockdown/quarantine right now. Please comment let me know what you think and look out for any new fics I might drop.
> 
> Stay safe, i love you and I update you very soon. I promise.

The air conditioning kept the hotel room a decent cool temperature so that when the sun began to rise over Lima at 6 am, the heat didn’t permeate heavily through the room. Despite Mickey desperately wanting to remain where he was in bed with his freckled boyfriend, he was there for a job and that job beckoned at the hour of sunrise. Mickey stirred sometime around 5 am waking before the sun and spent an hour lying in bed staring at the plains of Ian’s back and the softness of his red hair. He’s never loved anyone the way he loves Ian. He’s never experienced a love like this before. He only knows what it’s like to love Mandy and Jackie, he’d do anything for them, he’d kill for them but somehow it’s still different. 

Eleven months ago, he didn’t want to be in love with Ian. He didn’t want to care as much as he does. Eleven months ago, he thought he might have chosen his job over Ian and simply walked away. But he knows he can’t do that now. It’s not that easy. He’ll never be able to walk away from Ian. Ian’s became the part of him he hadn’t known was missing. The companion he hadn’t known he’d needed or longed for. Ian had taken up place in his life and he made Mickey feel whole. Like he wasn’t alone in the world anymore. He didn’t have to wallow in his success anymore. He could simply share it and celebrate it with a person who wanted it for him just as much as he wanted it for himself. 

He groaned into his pillow when his alarm rang from his phone forcing him to roll over and shut the shit off before it woke Ian. Apparently though, he was a little too late. The redhead stirred beside him turning onto his back rubbing at his eyes as he sleepily grumbled,“What time is it?”

“Six. I gotta be down in the lobby in twenty minutes. Gotta meet with everyone so we can get on a bus and head down to the stadium.” Mickey sat up peeling the sheets off his naked body and making a move to head toward the bathroom. Ian’s long fingers wrapped around his wrist pulling him back so he could peck his lips and then his jaw before he relented, letting Mickey go. Mickey padded toward the bathroom shooting a flirty grin and middle finger over his shoulder. 

“What’s today?” Ian asked from his place in bed.

“There’s a couple of sports taking place but I’m overseeing the medical team for Gymnastics today.” Mickey called back. Ian listened to the movement of the other man as he brushed his teeth and showered before he came back out wrapped in a towel. He watched as Mickey chose his outfit that was hanging in the closet among many others. “Don’t you usually have to wear a uniform that represents your country or something?” Ian asked.

“Each country has their own doctors and team that comes with them. I’m not representing the USA. I’m on the Pan-Am Medical and Emergency Response team. I represent everybody. We standby in the case of more serious accidents or instances,” Mickey spoke as he zipped his windbreaker up and sat at the end of the bed to put his shoes on, “most countries rather have emergency response from their own team but we still have to be there, have a plan, that’s what I’m there for. Well, me and a couple other doctors.” 

“Sounds interesting, and really important. I’m proud of you, you know?” 

Mickey blushes getting up and walking around the bed, “I’m proud of you too.” He pecked Ian’s lips before slipping his watch on and gathering his phone and wallet. “How’d your game go? I feel like a dick for not asking.”

“We had other shit we had to talk about,” Ian shrugged, “it was awful, my head wasn’t in it,”

“The next one will be better. Look I gotta go. Make yourself at home. Order room service or whatever and I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“Love you too Mick.”

Mickey smiled and grabbed his duffel bag that sat by the door before turning his attention to the redhead once more, “You got your meds right?”

“Yeah, they’re in my bag.”

“Sorry, I just worry. I’ll see ya.” 

***

Ian had spent the day bored out of his fucking mind. With the fear of being spotted by the other athletes roaming around the hotel and immediate city, he stayed cooped up ordering in room service and then laying in bed watching the games’ live broadcast. When Mickey waltzed into the room later that evening, he looked exhausted, flushed at the cheeks and lightly perspiring along his neckline and forehead. He kicked his shoes off and collapsed against the couch beside Ian. 

“How was your day?” Ian asked, turning his attention away from where he had been texting back and forth with Fiona. 

“Long, one of the gymnasts fell attempting the Produnova vault, it was ugly.”

“Shit...I don’t even know what that is.” Mickey then glanced to where Ian was still gripping his phone.

“Fiona?”

“Yeah, she wanted to know if I grew a pair and actually came and found you instead of hiding out in a hotel room,” Mickey laughed at that, “You know, I’m not entirely sure when it happened but my sister is your biggest fan. She was ready to disown me when she thought I was really going through with that wedding.” Ian rose off the couch swinging a leg over Mickey and settling to straddle his boyfriend.

Mickey’s hands came down to grip Ian’s hips, “She’s not so bad herself,” he tilted his chin up reaching to lightly brush his lips against Ian’s, softly, delicately, with just enough space between them for Ian to gasp. When Ian pressed closer, roughly smashing his lips against Mickey’s, the brunette’s fingers gripped painfully into the athlete’s hipbones. Mickey was the first to pull back, letting his eyes remain closed for a few passing moments before looking into deep green eyes.

“Why don’t you go put on something more than just boxers, comb your hair and put some shoes on?”

Ian’s red brows quirked at that, “We going somewhere?”

“Yeah, it’s getting late, it’ll be dark out. There’s something I wanna show you.”

***

Despite the dark sky and the fact that the clock read just past eight in the night, the air was thick and humid causing an ever present dust of sweat to constantly be sticking their clothing to their bodies as they walked through the less than busy streets. Ian would have assumed the night life of the largest city would be more alive especially at a time when so many athletes and tourists were staying in the area combined with the hundred of people who typically live there. Mickey seemed to just know what Ian was thinking when he looked over and answered or maybe Ian had spoken aloud and hadn’t realised, “This part of town isn’t really open to the public since the games are ongoing. Too much risk of something happening. Most of who you see here are committee personnel or athletes. Ian nodded ducking his head lower so his baseball cap would do as best a job as it possibly could to hide his face. 

“We’re gonna have to talk about that you know? What it means now that you’re out…I, I’m glad you are but what happens to my job?” Mickey asked, bumping his shoulders into Ian’s as he steered them toward another street.

“I’m sorry I didn’t really think about that. I guess I hardly think of it as being wrong. What would we have to do?”

“Well for one, I can’t be your doctor anymore, we’re going to have to find you someone who’s willing to tell a little white lie that they’ve been working longer than they have with you. We could say we realised our feelings and we stopped therapy. Or we could say fuck it and I could risk it all.”

Ian turned on his heels, grabbing Mickey’s hand, he glanced around at first and noticed they were on a mostly empty street, “We do whatever it takes to protect your job and what you’ve worked for. I would never ask you to give that up. Okay?”

“Okay, but I don’t want to live a lie. People are going to find out eventually. I don’t want a big press release but if they find out well then they do. We’re not running from this. I’m not ashamed of you, it’s just usually frowned up when the doctor starts fucking their patient.”

“Well I mean you hardly do the fucking.” Ian teased.

“You saying I’m a lazy fuck?” Mickey shoved at Ian’s arms who quickly ducked and playfully jabbed at Mickey’s middle. 

They fell into their easy banter until a couple more blocks down Ian heard the distinct sound of waves lapping against rock and the smell of salt crept up into his nose. “Are you really staying this close to the beach?”

“Yeah, took a walk a couple nights ago when I heard the...news. Found this place a couple blocks down. It’s quiet, private nothing you’d think you’d find in a busy city.” 

Ian intertwined his fingers between Mickey’s as the tar road quickly blended into a light beige dust of sand until Ian could feel them between his toes in the pair of flip flops Mickey had lent him. The night was dark but the city shone brightly making it hard to see any stars through the very little clouds. The ocean was loud, demanding on making its presence known as the two men fell into the sand beside each other. 

Ian doesn’t know what’s to come for them and he doesn’t know if it’ll be easy, but he thinks that at the end of every day if he’s ending it with Mickey by his side, things wouldn’t be so bad. He turns his face to look at Mickey bathed in moonlight swiping a tongue across his bottom lip. He’s breathtaking. The most beautiful Ian has ever had the privilege of looking at.

“We’ll be okay, I’ve been thinking about this since we’ve started this,” Mickey gestured between them, “I don’t want to give up my work, but I want you to know if that’s what it comes down to, I choose you. I’ll...I’ll always choose you.” 

Ian leaned in pressing his lips softly against Mickey’s as he takes in a shaky breath, “I love you, so much.” It’s cliched, they’re sitting on a beach under the moonlight with their lips pressed to each other’s and the waves crashing against the show with rhythm, but Ian wouldn’t have it any other way.

“When do you go home?” 

“Tomorrow night. Fi got me an appointment with Dr Young, I don’t want to leave shit too long before I see her.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” Ian couldn’t help the way his heart clenched with the worry that dripped from Mickey’s voice. Ian slung his arms around Mickey’s shoulders leaning his head back so he could get a good look of Mickey’s blue eyes. 

“I think so, I just feel a bit overwhelmed, think it’s best if I go in early. Stress can sometimes make me fall out of balance. I just wanna make sure I’m good.”

“That’s good, let me know how everything goes? I’m still here for another two and half weeks.”

Ian nodded before molding his lips around Mickey’s again, “Wanna get back? Order some room service and just chill in bed? I’ve missed doing that with you.”

Mickey nodded pecking Ian’s lips again before standing and brushing the sand off his clothing. Ian grabbed his boyfriend's hand in his own and they made their way back to the hotel. 


	27. Make It Official

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You look nice,” she smoothed down the colour of his shirt, “No matter where you go, how famous your boyfriend is, or what profession you choose, people are always going to have their own opinions on the shit going on in your life. It’s your call when you get to say fuck off...Now, where is Mandy’s spare clothes. I need to choose something to wear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I hope this update finds you in good health, with a peaceful mental health, and not being driven crazy with boredom.
> 
> It's crazy what's going on in the world today, but it has provided me with motivation to finish this story up and give you all something to read in the meantime. I do hope you all thoroughly enjoy this chapter, it was an absolute joy to write. 
> 
> 28 is finished just needs to be edited and I'm already working on 29. Please keep safe. i really do hope you all read these notes and I'm not just rambling to myself lmao. 
> 
> Your comments and words are comforting to know people are still reading and i enjoy hearing from you all, hope this update makes the quarantine a little better.

The weeks that passed by with Mickey and Ian being apart were tough on them. Ian had returned to Chicago and immediately checked in with Dr Young, committing himself to regular sessions once again, promising Fiona that he was going to try his best to make sure he was okay, in the end. It may have seemed foolish that most of the two weeks that followed the pair had spent it mostly texting back and forth and then wallowing when the other wasn’t around but they’d both admit that they wanted nothing more than to be physically with each other. The basketball player’s coming out served as somewhat of a new beginning to something still so fresh, a reset button to the misunderstandings and the tears that were shed. And both men had wanted nothing more that to put their song on replay and listen to it over and over again with each other. But they both had obligations in two very different countries. Casey had been a better friend to Ian than the redhead thought was possible. He called everyday and stopped in to make sure Ian hadn’t fallen off the rails, that he knew he had support. With his friend by his side and Dr Chavez as his new physiotherapist, Ian was slowly integrating himself back into the game he had so loved. He didn’t have any more distractions like he did at his first game back. Mickey was one hundred percent behind him and he couldn’t be more grateful for the support.

Within the month of Mickey being back in Chicago, Mickey came to the realisation that keeping him and Ian on the downlow wasn’t as easy as it was when the athlete was in the closet. He’d been working a night shift at the clinic, just having made his rounds. His body was tired, his eyes burned from being up too many hours since Ian had him up most of the night. He was leaning against the nurses station listening to Bevin explain to someone on the phone that she couldn’t give a patient’s information to them while he filled out the last patient file. The little tv in the waiting room was showing that obnoxious entertainment news channel Bevin always put on for the night shift. There were two young teenagers sitting in the waiting room while one of them had a sister who was in surgery. 

“Hey, look its that sexy basketball player you’ve got the hots for now that he’s gay.” Mickey overheard one of them saying. He slyly looked to the television that sure enough had the face of his boyfriend being photographed by paparazzi while the show’s host gave the latest update from an interview Ian had done sometime that week.

“Come on Travis, it’s not like he’s  _ now _ gay. He always has been, we the public only just found out. Plus we both know if you were a single gay man like me you’d wanna fuck him too.”

“He does have a nice ass for a guy.” the older one, Travis said. Mickey clenched his fist once, twice and then placed the file in front of Bevin for her to put away before he headed toward the lounge repeating the same mantra in his head over and over again,  _ They’re just horny teenagers. _

He’s never really been the jealous type when it came to guys until he’d fallen in love with the redheaded man who everyone seemed to want since he’d come out. And it seemed like everywhere he’d gone in the month that Ian had let the world know his biggest secret, he’d seen the world, men, more women if possible, and every magazine cover headlining, and gushing about Ian’s sexiness, and how much they all wanted him.

The moment he’d realised that he may not be able to hold it together for much longer happened on the sixth week after his return from Lima. The guys of Ian’s team had invited him to a party held at the headquarters to celebrate Ian’s integration back onto the court and his coming out. After weeks of nagging, Jackie had finally worn Mickey down to go out with her for a couple drinks, so Mickey had agreed he’d go out with his best friend and then they’d swing by the party to show their faces. Mickey thought he shouldn’t go at all because he and Ian weren’t working together anymore in the public’s eyes, despite the many days he still did therapy sessions with his boyfriend when Dr Chavez couldn’t make it.

Ian, however, thought that Mickey had no other choice but to show up. 

Jackie and him were sitting at the bar nursing two beers while she complained about the new nurses she had to train, and how much they were fucking up. Mickey knew it was his friend’s way of beating around when she really had something important she wanted to tell him. The thing about their friendship though, just like he hadn’t needed to tell her about him and Ian because she figured it out, he had her figured out too. So he waited until she was at the climax of her story of how one of the nurses fucked up the IV of a patient, to shut her up.

“So, when were you going to tell me you and Bevin have been hooking up?” he asked, cutting her off.

The tough, witty nurse blanched at the question before stammering unattractively, “Uhm, uh I don’t- I- uh.”

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased, waiting for her to get her shit together.

“You know?”

“Of course I know, I’m more observant than you give me credit for. Plus you were pissed when they took you off night shift. Who the fuck gets mad about that?”

Jackie nervously fumbled with the bowl of nuts sitting on the counter before shooting him a couple glance from beneath her lashes. 

“Why are you so nervous? Did you think I’d be mad or something? Because that’ll be very hypocritical of me.”

“Uh no, I...I really like her and I told my mom.”

“Shit, how did that go?”

She took in a deep breath before sighing, “She kicked me out. I’ve been staying with Bev since it all happened. But you know it’s all new and shit and moving in is kinda putting the pressure on us. But I’m looking for my own place.”

“Shit, you can stay at my place until you find your own, you know. Mandy almost never uses the guest bedroom anymore and I’m always at Ian’s.” He said, lowering his voice at his boyfriend’s name. 

Just then the rerun of a last basketball game that was showing on the television up above the bartender’s head showed Ian in his first game back scoring a 3 point shot.

Some of the guys at the bar erupted into cheers and laughter. Two guys beside Mickey who were cheering though, started up a conversation that had Mickey’s blood boiling. “I don’t understand one fuck about basketball but I do know what I wanna do to that redhead’s ass.”

“He’s totally a top.”

“You’re only saying that because you want him to fuck you. Either way if he’s not a bottom or not he’ll become one for me.”

“Okay, Let’s go,” Mickey threw a couple bills onto the counter before getting up, “I gotta get changed before this thing.” 

“Why? What’s wrong with wearing your scrubs? Don’t they know that you’re a doctor? Or that you’re stopping in after work?”

“Yeah they do, but...Ian’s gonna be there.” 

“You mean the guy who you already are in a relationship with? There’s no need to impress him, Mick. Let’s just go straight over there.” 

“All the years I’ve known you, you’ve begged me to be more conscious of my fashion. Well this is me doing that.”

***

“I don’t get why you’re so nervous, you guys have been an item for long enough, you practically live at his place. What’s the big deal?” Jackie was shoving handfuls of potato chips into her mouth from her place on his bed where she had been attempting to help him choose an outfit.

“It’s a big deal because we’re gonna be in a room all night with his teammates, friends and family and we’re gonna have to be more careful than ever about people finding out,” Mickey sighed bending closer to the mirror to ensure his hair was perfect, “I want the people closest to him to like me.”

“The people closest to him already do, it’s the people he’s already introduced you to that matters. It doesn’t matter what associates and acquaintances think.”

“I just feel like...he came out and I feel like we’re still hiding, which we are but this time it isn’t because of him. It’s me.”

“I’ve already told you no one is going to give a fuck that you guys are in love. It’s fucking 2020 for crying outloud. Do you know how many gymnasts by now have been fucking their coaches? Or actresses hooking up with directors? So many of them actually fall in love. Why should what you have be any different?”

“Because I took an oath! A-and I don’t need people having their own opinions about what Ian and I are to each other. They’re gonna think I preyed on him when he was vulnerable. They’re gonna see me as the fucking predator and I don’t want that.” Jackie got up from where she was and made her way over to her friend to hug him.

“You look nice,” she smoothed down the colour of his shirt, “No matter where you go, how famous your boyfriend is, or what profession you choose, people are always going to have their own opinions on the shit going on in your life. It’s your call when you get to say fuck off...Now, where is Mandy’s spare clothes. I need to choose something to wear.”

***

Mickey and Jackie had entered the hall of the Bulls headquarters later that evening taking in the sight of people dressed in their semi casual attire as they mingled with one another. He’d walked in about ten minutes before and had settled for leaning against the bar sipping whiskey on the rocks while he looked around at the familiar faces. He’d spotted Ian almost the minute he walked in but opted to stay on the sidelines and watch while his boyfriend smiled and greeted his friends and the higher-ups who worked with the Bulls. The moment Ian spots him from his place across the hall his green eyes lit up and looked like he wanted nothing more than to cross the room and wrap his arms around Mickey.

Mickey’s spent a long time being out of the closet now and he’s never found himself willingly hiding since he’s walked out shamelessly. He’s always made it a promise to himself that he’d live life fully as who he was, no longer hiding behind who people wanted him to be.

He’d never dated anyone in the spotlight before, or felt like he had to hide it. It was all new to him but if it was one thing Mickey was certain of was that he loved Ian, and he was never going to stop, no matter what risk that love came at.

But when it came down to the thought of going on, for more months to come, hiding under a pretence that Ian was nothing more than a patient to him, something primitive inside of him awoke. He didn’t know how many times he could listen to strangers lust after his boyfriend without doing what Mickey Milkovich would typically do, stand up and claim what’s his. When he was a young boy his mother said he might as well have peed on everything he owned if he didn’t want people touching what was his. But that usually only extended to his materialistic belongings, never a guy. 

He hadn’t completely thought it through when he placed his now empty glass down on the bar, straightened his shirt, ran a hand through his hair and then looked back at Ian. Ian was looking back at him with a furrowed brow, like he could see the anxiety radiating off of Mickey and Jackie was talking his ear off about nothing in particular. But Mickey couldn’t think about that then, he couldn’t think of anything really beside how to walk. He mustered up all the Milkovich courage humanly possible and let his feet take him across the room to where Ian was standing in conversation with Casey and a few other guys. 

“Hey, guys this is Mick-” whatever Ian was about to say was knocked out his mouth and swallowed down by Mickey as the brunette man grabbed Ian’s face in his hands and pressed his lips into the redhead’s with all the passion and love he felt for him. Ian’s stunned lips took a few seconds before they too began to move against Mickey’s while one hand laced through the soft hairs on the nape of the doctor’s neck and his other arm wrapped around his waist. It wasn’t hard for Ian to fall into the kiss and feel of Mickey but it was easy for him to remember they were standing in the middle of a crowded room when dozens of the people he had worked closely with broke into a song of gasps and cheers. The flashing lights of members of the media was enough to pull him out of his Mickey-haze and fall back a little so he could get a better look at the man. Mickey was beautiful with his eyes refusing to lift any higher than Ian’s neck and his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip.

“What did you just do?” Ian whispered.

Mickey swallowed, gripped a little tighter to Ian’s jacket and then looked up to meet Ian’s eyes, “I’m saying fuck off.” Ian’s eyebrows furrowed but before he could ask what exactly that meant, they were being bombarded by a few journalists. 

“Okay, Okay, I’m going to need everyone to step back here. This is a private event that we had the courtesy to invite a few of you to. It wasn’t to suffocate him. Step back or leave.” Ian’s eyes snapped toward the sound of the stern voice he’d heard order drills for years now. His coach was stepping between the paparazzi and Ian and Mickey with his arms spread wide. The crowd dissipated quickly. Before Ian could get any word in, there was a tapping on the PA system causing everyone to bustle toward their seats.

“Good evening. I want to thank everyone who has taken the time out of their days to join us here tonight.” Ian hadn’t even noticed Casey stepping away until he could see him on the stage, “Tonight is to celebrate someone who has been by my side loyally for a really long time now. He’s one of the strongest people I know, heck I think that also holds for a lot of you too. We’ve seen him come back from something that us athletes fear the most. And not once but twice. I’d like to invite you all to join me in a round of applause for the man of the hour, Ian Gallagher.” 

Mickey watched as everyone erupted into a burst of applause and cheers, a little speechless as he came to realise just how much people he hadn’t realised had been rallying behind his boyfriend, “Before I say anymore, I asked Ian if he’d want to say a few words so please, Ian.”

Ian reluctantly stepped away from Mickey, not before squeezing his shoulder lightly and then making his way to the podium. 

“Goodnight, And thank you for coming here tonight. Thank you to my team and my family. Uh...my b-boyfriend.” He glanced toward Mickey who gave him a tiny nod. 

“I don’t know what I would have done without you all. I wouldn’t be here that’s for sure. To my doctors Dr Lance, Dr Chavez who both couldn’t be here tonight and to Dr Mickey Milkovich who was an amazing doctor for the time he did therapy with me. Thank you. He was nothing but professional and kind and understanding. I know tonight isn’t about that but after what just happened I think I need to say a few things about our relationship.”

Ian took a deep breath in looking into Mickey’s eyes feeling the tears prickle at his own, “I found a friend in him, someone who puts my health and well being before anything else. And I know so many people are going to think what they want but I love him. And he loves me and that’s why Dr Chavez is now my new physiotherapist. I think I’m the luckiest man in the world. To have such a strong support system.”

The redhead let his eyes pan over the room and look over his brothers and sisters, his team, his coach, Mickey, “I’m honoured to call you people my friends. I hadn’t expected this response. I was scared, and that’s why I hid for so long. But I’m done hiding. I just want to be happy now.” 

It was freeing to be able to stand in front of flashing cameras and Ian’s team and be able to hold the dorky redhead’s hand. It baffled Mickey how something so simple could be so liberating, could make his lips stretch into the biggest smile it ever had before and could make him fall all the more in love.

***

When the door to Ian’s penthouse slammed shut, there was a tie flying over Mickey’s head and shoes kicked into the kitchen, pants draped haphazardly on the kitchen counter and a brunette doctor pressed up against the bedroom door with pink lips sucking at his own while hands, too many hands roamed. 

The heat in the room and the warmth of their breath broke a sweat out on each of their bodies causing them to stick where they touched and eventually fumble their way across the room and to the bed. Ian quickly shed his pants and underwear while Mickey dug around in the nightstand for the new bottle of lube Ian had bought. “Hurry the fuck up, Fabio,” Mickey chuckled from where he was bent over the bed looking over his shoulder. Ian laughed at the name and threw his pants aside struggling to catch the bottle of lube being thrown at him.

Mickey turned his head away from where Ian stood, laughing as he prepared himself for Ian’s hands to get on. He jerked suddenly when he felt the palm of Ian’s hand collide with his asscheek leaving a sting and reddening bruise, “Fuck”

Ian busied himself pouring lube onto his fingers and then prepping Mickey, “Mick,” he whispered as he slipped two fingers into his boyfriend who had his face buried in the sheets fighting back his moans.

“Move in with me.” 

Mickey suddenly jerked up causing Ian’s fingers to slip from him and his knee to bang violently into the side of the bed in his attempt to turn around, “Fuck!”

When the shooting pain had finally subsided to a throb and he was seated on the bed he looked up to find Ian shyly hiding his erection and his eyes trained on the floor.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...maybe that wasn’t the best timing.”

“Yes.”

Greened eyes shot up and grew with wonder and that beautiful smile slowly made its way onto the redhead’s face, “Really?”

“We practically live together anyways,” Mickey got up knocking Ian’s hand from where it was failing to hide his dick, Mickey wrapped one arm around the redhead’s hips pulling their bodies flush against each other. His fingers of his free hand enclosed around the girth of Ian’s cock as he kissed up the side of his boyfriend’s neck, “Might as well make it official.”

Ian shuddered under the touch of Mickey, tucking his face into Mickey’s neck as the brunette slowly stroked him, “Mick.” Ian was slowly becoming a puddle of jelly in Mickey’s hands willingly begging to be moulded and kneaded and stretched in every which way. It was easy to lose every last ounce of control when it came to Mickey, he could let it all go because none of it mattered. Not when Mickeys calloused hands were gripping so surely into his soft skin and tugging at every nerve ending of his body.

Mickey turned his face, capturing Ian’s lips with his own, licking into his mouth slowly, nipping at his lips every once in a while. Even at their slowest, most sensual moments Ian realised they kissed like a thunderstorm, demanding to be felt and heard, appearing to be rougher and harsher than it probably was, consuming, deafening, blinding, cutting every last bit of sensation out but each other. That’s the only sensation they’d every need, the ability to feel each other. “Come on,” Mickey urged as he backed them toward the bed, letting Ian fall against him.

Every inch of him was alive. Every hair stood on end and there was a fire radiating between them. Waves of warmth washed over them awakening every goosebump and hair follicle, creeping down to the tips of their toes and the crowns of their heads. Puddling deeping within their stomachs and stopping time, and anything else exterior. He’d made love to Ian before and it would usually be slow, and soft. But this was different. It was loud, passionate and filled with laughter. He never laughed with someone during sex before. But the more Ian let loose his joyous rollicking, the more that fire in the pit of his stomach and middle of his heart grew. It grew so big that he couldn’t see the end of it. He could feel Ian all around him, consuming him in an envelope of warmth, and love and passion. Swallowing up until he’d lost sight of where they’d once been two separate beings, diving deeper into the promise that they’d always be one.


	28. It Was Always You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But when he lets his eyes settle on every face of Ian’s family or friends he realises he doesn’t mind changing that small detail about himself if it meant letting these people into his world, because they’re part of the man he loves. Ian left a little of himself in everyone he came into contact with, and Mickey was content with trying to find all those pieces. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope you're all doing well.
> 
> Here's a quick update. ONLY 2 MORE CHAPTERS TO GO!!!
> 
> Be sure to look out for any other stuff I'll be posting when this fic is finished up and remember you can always send me any ideas you may want me to try writing. 
> 
> Let me know what you think   
Stay safe! Stay healthy! And wash your hands!.

She’s got eyes like Ian’s, they’re not the same color but they’re the same shape, a bit bigger and a lot more browner but he could see the similarity. Maybe it’s because he sees the light behind the eyes and hears the kindess behind the laugh.

He sees the resemblance more when she throws her head back and laughs and holds her stomach with how much it hurts, and her eyes squint so much it isn’t possible for her to see through them. That reminds him most of Ian in the quiet private moments when he’s said something too incredibly rude to be taken as a joke but the redhead laughs with his whole soul anyway. 

She’s rambling currently as they get onto the elevator. She’s talking about schooling for Liam, and how difficult it is now that Debbie has a job and expects her to watch the baby all the time. Mickey’s listening. He’s listening just enough to offer the vague “mhm” or “huh?” every once in a while but he’s mostly consumed in his thoughts as he carries three bags filled with part supplies and a case of beer. 

It’s been two weeks since he and Ian were officially moved in together. Well Ian mostly just tried his hardest to confine his belongings to half the storage space in the penthouse before helping Mickey pack everything he owned into boxes and hauling it all only to have it sit in the living room for a week because they were too overwhelmed with living together that they hardly stopped fucking. 

Now that everything is packed into their rightful places, and Mickey wasn’t so sad about losing his job at the clinic, Ian deemed it the right time to have a housewarming party. Typically Mickey would protest to any kind of party, but he knows it’s Ian’s way of trying to cheer him up. They hadn’t been expecting the call from the clinic a little less than eleven hours after the news of their relationship hit the front pages of every magazine but Mickey was somewhat prepared for the notion. It still stung, after all he’d given years of his life and service at that clinic and they couldn’t even be honest with him, chalking it up to a “financial cut-back.” Mickey’s never been dumb and he isn’t going to start to be, he knew it was a coverup an attempt to save their asses in the case that Mickey would take the heat. Jackie was right though, not much people seemed to give a fuck.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Fiona asked as she punched the button of the elevator.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I gotta get up and move on. This party is the way to do that.”

“That’s so fucking messed up that they just let you go, after how long you’ve been working there. That’s quite fucked up if you ask me. I can always go down there, give a piece of my mind to Lance. Don’t mind his son and I aren’t dating anymore, I don’t mind telling him where to shove it.”

“Don’t go telling anyone where to shove it. It’s fine.”

“Isn’t it illegal to dismiss you from a job based on your sexual preference?” She scrunched her nose up as the elevator stopped on a floor and there was no one to get on. She jabbed the button to close it before they continued to ascend.

“Technically yes, but one they new I was gay before news of Ian and I got out. Two, they claim it’s because of downsizing which I was aware of, so even if you and I both know they cut me cuz I’m dating a patient, I can’t exactly do anything about it.” 

“That sucks.”

“You bet.” The elevator dinged open and they stepped out, “Oh by the way, Ian’s been telling me he wanted to offer you to take the baby on some days. He’s been dying to spend time with her.”

***

The room is filled with people by the time 8 pm rolls around and Mickey is standing in the kitchen tugging at the collar of the button down shirt he’d thrown on for the occasion. There are a few Gallaghers sitting around the living room chatting with one another and Mandy who Mickey thinks is sitting a little too close to Ian’s older brother but he doesn’t say anything. He can hear the buzz of numerous conversations but above them all he can pick out his boyfriends laugh across the room where Jackie has him cornered, where she is no doubt embarrassing Mickey. He sips his beer that’s gotten a bit warm in his hand and he looks over the people mingling and mixing. Both their worlds, his and Ian’s meshing somewhat seamlessly like if they both didn’t usually hang with very different crowds, or worked very unlike jobs.

He comes to the realisation that there are a lot of things he is now that he wasn’t before he had met Ian. For one, he’s never been big on socialising. Of all the people currently in their home, he considered himself friends with four, two of which were his sister, and Ian’s sister. Jackie was the third and Bevin, who was only there by proxy, the fourth. But when he lets his eyes settle on every face of Ian’s family or friends he realises he doesn’t mind changing that small detail about himself if it meant letting these people into his world, because they’re part of the man he loves. Ian left a little of himself in everyone he came into contact with, and Mickey was content with trying to find all those pieces. 

“You seem very deep in thought,” Ian saddles up beside him sipping his beer and looking over the rim of the bottle at Mickey. 

“No, just thinking my beer got hot.” 

Ian’s got his red hair slicked back, he’s freshly shaven and there’s a drop of beer sitting on his bottom lip. “Don’t worry, I’m only having one.” Ian says

“Wasn’t worried,” Mickey knows he’s talking slow, because he’s too captivated, and entangled in thoughts about Ian to really make his words sound like he’s not in a deep haze. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ian’s eyebrows bunch together adorably as he gives Mickey a once over. 

Mickey places his warm beer on the kitchen counter and slips his arms around Ian’s waist gathering up fistfuls of the fabric of his clothing to keep him grounded, “I’m good.”

“Thanks,” Ian says it so softly Mickey isn’t sure he was supposed to hear it.

“For?”

“For still going through with the move and the party and all that shit even though you’re under stress from losing your job. I would have understood if moving in was too soon after I caused you to be jobless.”

“Hey, Hey, Hey you didn’t cause anything, okay? I’m good. Fuck the clinic, I want to be here. Maybe that chapter was supposed to be done with. I wanna move on, with you.”

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey’s neck squeezing him tightly before pulling back, “Have you heard from the realtors?”

“No, not yet, but Fiona’s also looking into some spaces, think she’s hoping I let her help me decorate the new office once I have the space to work with.”

“Oh we know you’re gonna let her. You’re a big old softie when it comes to Gallagher’s,”

“Not with Lip.” He said sternly causing Ian to giggle.

“Okay, maybe not Lip,” he gets this look in his eye for a minute like he’s about to tell Mickey a secret, “I’m proud of you. A lot of people, including me, would have locked themselves into their rooms and cried for a week after losing a job so important to them, not immediately deciding to open his own private practice.”

“The minute I knew I was in love with you, I had to have a plan, because if I ever had to choose, it was always you.” Ian blushed as Mickey stepped on the tips of his toes pressing his lips chastely against Ian’s. 

Someone cleared their throat beside them causing them both to turn toward the sound. She was even more beautiful in person when Mickey finally saw her, her strawberry blonde hair falling long down back and her piercing blue eyes. 

“We’re leaving,” Annabeth smiled at Ian before looking at Mickey, “thank you for inviting us, it was nice meeting you.” She was showing a lot more now in the pregnancy dress she was wearing. The man beside her who looked shy and soft spoken simply nodded and smiled.

“It was great seeing you, Beth. I hope everything is good with you.” Ian said as he hugged her

“It is,” she placed her hand on her baby bump, “we had an appointment yesterday, found out it’s a boy.” 

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” Ian hugged her again while Mickey offered a smile.

“We’re thinking of naming him Ian.” She smiled. 

“What?” Mickey looked at the way Ian’s eyes welled up a bit and he tightened his grip on Ian’s shirt. 

“Yeah, we think it’s a great name, since the one we know is such a good person.”

“Fuck, Beth you’re gonna make me cry.” Ian sniffled with a laugh before hugging her and her boyfriend before finally saying goodbye. 

It’s exactly what Mickey had thought before. Ian goes around leaving pieces of himself in people, giving them parts of himself in ways he didn’t know, and by the presence of everyone in the room, Mickey knows just like himself, each one of these people holds on to that piece of him and doesn’t intend on letting it go.

***

He had the most perfectly bowed lips that were parted slightly as he steadily took in breath after breath. His broad shoulders rose with every inhale, relaxing deeper into the sheets on every exhale. Ian’s sure he couldn’t have gotten luckier. In retrospect, if Mickey hadn’t turned up in his life when he had Ian was sure his recovery would have gone in a very different direction. He wouldn’t be as content as he is now, at the crack of dawn beside his boyfriend lying in their bed, int the apartment they now share.

The morning air is cool, but he knows the heat will be almost unbearable soon, so he snuggles closer to Mickey to get as much closeness as he can before the brunette is hot, sweaty and irritable.

_ “You gotta hold on baby,” his mother’s voice is soft and far away, the way it usually would be. Like she was there but not really. Lip used to say it’s because Monica was a fleeting enigma.  _

_ “Hold on to what?” his voice is quiet and sounds a lot like what he did when he was six years old.  _

_ “To the love,” she’s laying beside him on the bottom bunk he and Lip shared. It’s the first time she’s been home in a month, “Love is messy, it’s slippery and always trying to get away. It’s like a wet fish.”  _

_ She isn’t making sense, but she hardly ever did, “It’s gonna be hard sometimes. Look at me and Frank, there’s nothing easy ‘bout us. But you gotta hold on baby, because it’s so fucking good.” he remembers falling asleep to the sound of her voice that night. When he woke up she was gone and he hadn’t seen her again until Debbie was born.  _

There’s soft lips pressing to the edge of his jaw, “Wake up,” Mickey’s voice is gravelly and muffled into his skin, Ian wrapped his two arms around Mickey without opening his eyes and snuggles as close as he could get even if he’s feeling the beginnings of day’s sweat between them.

“What are you doing? It’s hot as balls, bitch.” Mickey protests with a laugh even though his body relaxes against where Ian is holding him in a vice.

“I’m holding on,” it isn’t as difficult as Monica said it would be, but maybe she never really knew true love before.


	29. A House Sounds Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thin white gold band had traveled to and from Lima with him, but none of the two days he spent in Peru had felt right. Now does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey =) I hope you all are doing well, keeping safe and healthy. 
> 
> First off, this is the second to last chapter! So crazy. This was supposed to come earlier this week but I have been extremely lazy, I won't lie. 
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy this chapter, it's a toss up of fluff, smut and angst and it was fun writing.
> 
> Secondly and this one is a BIG thing... I sincerely apologize in advance for how I ended this chapter, I was feeling evil. But please keep in mind this is a happy ending fic and there is only one more chapter so it really isn't all that bad. Trust me.
> 
> Have fun reading though. Keep safe <3

It’s the hottest day of the year, mid summer that finds Mickey in a sweat walking down a crowded sidewalk with Fiona beside him. He could see their building in sight and he can think of nothing better than stepping into the AC and being able to take a goddamn shower that will wash away the sweat, and anxiety off his body. 

Ian on the other hand is too busy sitting on the floor of their living room surrounded by too many toys and a gargling baby that he keeps tickling into laughter, to be bothered by the heat outside. His heart is full, swollen and bursting at his seams by just the sight of his niece, smiling her gummy four-teeth smile up at him and kicking her tiny feet about. 

“You’re such a sweetie pie,” he coos, “your mama could have only dreamed of being as sweet as you,” he lovingly strokes her feathery red hair as he picks her up off the floor and takes her to the kitchen with him so he can get some water. 

As he sips the drink she keeps reaching out for the cup so he grabs a straw from the draw and drops it in offering her the water, “There you go Fran,” he’s swept off his feet by her more so than he had ever been with any of his siblings.

Fiona thinks Debbie’s made a mess of her life having a kid in her teenage years, Ian thinks Franny is the greatest thing his little sister has ever done. It makes him wonder what his life is going to be like more and more every day. Where would life find him and Mickey in ten years.? Would he be a dad? Is that something Mickey wants? He knows Mickey has a soft spot for his niece but at the end of every day they spend with her they hand her back over to Debbie or Fiona, giving up the responsibility but it makes him wonder if Mickey has ever had the thoughts of marriage or kids or maybe buying a home together one day. 

He knows it’s too soon to bring the topic of kids up, since they’ve only been dating a year, but where exactly would life take them? 

***

“Ian’s been asking to spend more and more time with Franny,” Fiona says. 

“Yeah, he loves her and I think he likes helping Debs out.” Mickey says dismissively because he knows what Fiona wants to talk about, but the heat, and the anxiety he’s feeling is too drowning at the moment and he really doesn’t want to talk about this, but he knows when it comes to the eldest Gallagher he didn’t really have a choice. 

“Yeah maybe that’s it, or maybe he’s feeling the baby fever. I mean, Debs had a baby, Annabeth is having a baby.” 

“You need to stop right there, can we take one thing at a time? And now is definitely not the time for baby talk, check me in about seven years.” Fiona shuts her mouth but not without a smirk and surrendered pair of hands being thrown back. 

Mickey isn’t scared of commitment with Ian, he wants it all with the basketball player, he wants it all at a regular, healthy pace. There are other things at the forefront of his mind anyways.

***

By the time he’s snapped out of his train of thought, Mickey and Fiona are piling in the door, drenched in sweat and kicking their shoes off. Mickey immediately yanks his shirt off and pads toward the bathroom stopping momentarily to smack a kiss on Ian’s lips. 

“How’d picking out office furniture go?” Ian asked walking Franny toward the living room. 

“As good as it could go with your boyfriend when it’s 100 degrees out. How was Franny?”

“An absolute angel.” Ian said, smiling down at her and making funny faces.

When Mickey had gotten out of the shower Fiona and Franny had already left and Ian was wearing an infectious smile as he tidied the living room and kitchen. “So I got a call from Coach today,” he says as he hears Mickey’s footsteps behind him, “They want to meet to make a game plan, figure out if I can play next NBA, Chavez thinks I can do it with more training and therapy.”

“I think she’s right, you’ve got most of your form back, the muscle, tendons and ligaments are healing evenly. You might have to cut down on your game time so you don’t strain it but I think you can play next season.” Mickey’s sipping a cold beer when Ian turns around with that smile again beaming at him.

“Fiona said today went well.”

“Fuck that, we got nothing, she wants me to fucking splurge on furniture and I just don’t think the practice is secure enough to be splurging.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Ian dumped the few toys he’d bought for his niece into a basket and then made his way over to his freshly cleaned boyfriend, nuzzling his face into Mickey’s neck, “You smell good.” 

“How’d your day go?”

“Perfect.” 

“That little redhead has got you so whipped.” Mickey laughed playfully smacking his boyfriend’s ass.

***

It’s 2 am when Mickey stirs awake to find Ian laying staring up at the ceiling with a furrowed brow, “why are you awake?” he grumbled.

“Just thinking,” Ian’s voice is nothing but a whisper barely audible if Mickey’s head wasn’t pressed against Ian’s chest.

“About?” Mickey rolled away onto his back pulling at the sheets that had wrapped itself around him until he wasn’t as tangled up again.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” Mickey felt his heart rate quicken as he whipped his head around to get a look at Ian through the darkness.

“Uh...I don’t know. It’s not something I’ve ever had to think about before. You?”

“I think I might want some, in the future maybe.” Ian isn’t looking at Mickey, his green eyes seem glassy as they focus on the spinning ceiling fan.

He’s fully enamored. Feeling his hairs stand on end with the chill that ravels straight down his spine at the thought of Ian thinking about a life with him. Mickey pulled at the sheets again raising them so he could slide closer to Ian, plastering himself tightly against Ian’s side, feeling comfort when Ian’s arm raised and tucked around him. The brunette tucked his face into the crook of Ian’s neck kissing softly, “Okay.”

“What about like...I don’t know..would you live in a penthouse like this forever or would ever want to own a house?”

Mickey kissed Ian’s cheek, “A house sounds good,” his voice was muffled by Ian’s skin, “I’m down for anything.” his tattooed hands rubbed down Ian’s sternum, carding through the soft trail of red hair just below Ian’s belly button until he can wrap his fingers around Ian’s semi hard cock. Ian’s breath hitches at the contact of Mickey’s cold fingers and his head turns, seeking out his lips. Mickey kisses him once, twice. His hand keeps a steady pace, stroking Ian to full hardness as Ian is reduced to faint whispered words and guttural moans. 

Mickey takes the initiative as Ian’s body begins to roll on it’s own accord, fucking up into his fist and then down so his back arched against the bed. Mickey was on him, before Ian could realise his own eyes had fallen close, “You know you don’t gotta worry about this shit,” Mickey’s voice felt far away, looming over him, around him. 

Ian had very little to no control over his body as the weight and heat of Mickey’s thighs settled on both sides of his body. Or when he felt the smooth silky expanse of Mickey’s chest fall flush against his own, “It’s you and me,” Mickey whispered, sinking down around Ian’s girth, ripping low moans from Ian’s lips. Ian could only muster enough strength to grip his fingers into the sheets and hold on for his dear life. He could feel his toes curling in and his fingers trembling with each surge of pleasure that shut through him with the same rhythm Mickey was riding him with. “I got you, Ian.” 

The brunette had slipped his fingers through the red tresses of Ian’s hair gripping into the back of his skull, his lips dancing across Ian’s jaw and neck, leaving little purple blotches just above his collar bone. Sweet whispers of promises floated around as Ian finally opened his eyes.

Mickey’s words weren’t really making much sense to Ian in that moment, but it’s later in the night after they’ve both shuddered through their orgasms, that he’d figure it out. He’d figure it all out, when Mickey’s voice would finally come back to him and he’s gathered up enough strength to prop himself up on Ian’s chest and let out a laugh. 

“Better?” His laugh is breathy and blows hotly against Ian’s chin.

“Much.”

“Now go the fuck to sleep,” Mickey laughed.

“You're still on top of me,” Ian fakes a stressed out groan but he’s aware that his arms have now come to lock around the brunette.

Mickey scrunched up his forehead as best as he could before loudly smacking his lips against Ian’s chin, “Yeah bitch, and that’s how it’s gonna be. Go to sleep.” 

And he did, knowing exactly what he needed to do the next day.

***

Ian had fallen asleep with an elaborate plan in mind only to wake up to find his boyfriend lying on their couch with one leg thrown over the backrest and the other stretched out, lazing around in a pair of boxers that did not belong to him and not out buying the final furniture pieces he needed for his new Doctor’s office. Mickey’s blue eyes were focussed on reruns of Friends while he chewed on the end of a Twizzler stick. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Ian asked as he tipped the coffee pot to pour a mug for himself and another for Mickey.

“You didn’t sleep much last night.” Mickey lazily scratched at his balls, and yet Ian still thought he was the best looking human.

Ian came to sit beside him, lifting Mickey’s leg into his lap before settling against the cushions, “You’re not going to the office today?”

“I’m supposed to stop in and check how far the contractors have gotten but think I might just lay around instead.” Mickey held out an extra Twizzler stick to Ian who refused.

“Are you sure? Don’t you wanna go get it done?” Ian looked into his coffee mug avoiding eye contact with his boyfriend.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.” Mickey accused with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Ian’s voice cracked, “No, come on. I’d never try to get rid of you. Don’t you think you’d feel better if you got it all done today? Then you won’t be so cranky.” 

Mickey kept up the accusatory facade for one more second before relaxing his brows, “You’re right, but I’m not taking Fiona with me, she’s being annoying as all fuck.” Mickey left a play bite on Ian’s jaw before kissing his lips and then heading toward the shower.

“We both know you love her.” Ian said as he heard the bathroom door shut. He immediately got up and dropped his mug into the sink before unhooking his phone from its charger and sending a text message to a number he was yet to use.

** _Ian (to Jackie) 10:23am: _ ** _ Busy? Need you help with something - Ian. _

***

The loud sizzling of the stir fry he had going on the stove filled the apartment while he stared defeatedly at the ruined steaks in front of him. Why did he always fuck things up? The burning scent of asparagus and carrots wafted in the air making him all the more aware that he was fucking this up more, “Fuck fuck fuck.” He yanked the skillet off the stove throwing it into the sink with a loud sigh. He didn’t have any other choice, it was always 3 pm, so he grabbed a take out menu for Mickey’s favourite restaurant and ordered their dinner before turning to the mess he’d made in the kitchen. 

He got started on emptying and throwing away the charred food, then washing the dishes before he cleaned the counters and floor. Once the kitchen was spotless and looked like no one ever used it, he headed into the bathroom for a much needed shower. 

The hot water stung at his skin flowing down the plains of his back and over his legs. He was a ball of nerves, and Ian knew when he got like this it was easy to make a fool of himself. It reminds him of the first time he’d met Mickey. He should have known from that moment that Mickey wasn’t just going to be any doctor to him. Mickey had seen him in vulnerable ways before he’d gotten to know him. And in the first few months of knowing the doctor he’d reduced Ian to a babbling nervous mess who stuttered and got shy. Ian wouldn’t have it any other way now because he thinks he’s found his forever. After cleaning his body and standing for way too long under the shower he retired from the bathroom to get dressed.

Ian stood in their bedroom, some minutes later, in front of the mirror tugging uselessly on the tie he had chosen. A tie was too much right? His phone buzzed against the chest of drawers as the screen lit up with a text from Jackie.

**_Jackie_** **_4:23pm: _**_He just met me at Molly’s. Gonna have a couple beers to keep him distracted. I’ll text you when we leave._

Molly’s was Mickey’s favourite spot for a drink and it happened to be only fifteen minutes away from the penthouse. Ian looked himself over once again in the mirror and realised just how pathetic he looked with his crooked tie. He sighed loudly, yanking the tie off and hanging it back in it’s rightful place of their now very clean bedroom. He settled for a white button down shirt and a newer pair of jeans before he pulled the top drawer open to look over his growing collection of watches. He reached to the back of the drawer where he had stuffed the box after his trip to Lima. 

This seemed like the right time. They were ready for this. Ian’s been ready since before Mickey had left for Lima, he’d been ready since the thought of marriage even came to mind, suggested by Jensen of all people.

_ Two months earlier: _

_ “I swear to God Ian, this is ridiculous,” Debbie complained from the other end of the facetime call, “You seriously owe me like a year worth of babysitting for this.” she was sitting at a table in the mall’s food court resting her legs before resuming her quest. _

_ “I will gladly babysit my niece for an entire year. I couldn’t possibly ask Fiona, her mouth’s too big. I’m very aware of how big a favour this is but...I...I just can’t do it myself, can you imagine the headline? I just want this because I know I’m going to do it one day, I-” _

_ “You don’t have to explain, I get it. It’s just a pain in my ass that you haven’t found the ring that’s the one.” _

_ “It’s gotta be perfect Debs.” _

The thin white gold band had traveled to and from Lima with him, but none of the two days he spent in Peru had felt right. Now does. Ian breathed in slowly before smoothing down his hair, pocketing the black box and then heading into the kitchen to make sure the dinner he had delivered was set.

***

“You’re up to something” Mickey suspiciously quirked his eyebrow at his best friend as she paid for his beer, “you never pay...for anything.”

“Fuck you,” Jackie quipped sliding a beer toward them as she made her way back to their boot, “I’m celebrating, I’ve got a reason to pay.”

“You finalised the shit for the apartment?” Mickey’s eyes lit up.

“No, It’s still technically yours but I’m meeting with the landlord tomorrow to change that. That’s not what I’m celebrating.”

“Then what?”

“I got offered a promotion at the clinic.” 

“That’s fantastic!” Mickey said, because despite how things ended for him there, Jackie loved that job.

“Yeah, so I quit.”

“WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT?” Mickey’s voice rose drawing some attention that quickly dissipated, to them

“Because I got a better job offer.” she placed her hand on her hands and smiled.

“You did?”

“Yeah. When you and I first became friends, you told me if you ever got sick of working at the clinic and opened your own private practice, you’d hire me as your head nurse, I’m collecting.”

Mickey burst into a raucous fit of laughter before putting a hand out, Jackie gladly shook it smiling ear to ear, “Welcome aboard then.”

***

The food was all laid out in fancy dishes he had bought and never taken out, there were candles lit on the dining room table that was never used, and there was a tall redhead sitting nervously fidgeting with his fingers in the kitchen. Jackie had texted not only two minutes before to let him know Mickey had left the bar and was on his way home. He just had to sit and wait until Mickey walked through the door. 

It wasn’t a long wait. A little more than fifteen minutes later Ian was startled from his day dream when he heard Mickey’s key in the door and then the sound of him dropping his coat and shoes in the entryway. “Yo, Ian! I’m back!” Ian straightened his shirt as he sat at the dining table listening to the movements of Mickey. “Got a good coffee table for the waiting room. Jackie asked for you. She was being weird today though. Oh and I was passing by the gourmet shop you like and they got a restock of that wine we liked so I-” Mickey’s voice cut off as he stepped into the open floor room seeing the lights turned down low, candles glowing and Ian sitting patiently waiting. 

“...bought a bottle. What’s this?” he sets the bottle on the table as he watched with bated breath as Ian got up and approached.

“I...I thought I’d do something nice for you...us. I-I...you…”

“Why are you so nervous?” Ian’s arms were awkwardly dropped to his sides, “What’s going on?”

“I bought your favourite. Let’s eat.”

Ian moved to go back to his seat but Mickey still stood, “No, tell me what’s going on first. Did something happen?”

“What? No. I...Okay.” Ian dug into his pocket wrapping his fingers around the box there, “Okay.”

The redhead took a deep breath before closing his eyes briefly, “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Yeah...you’re scaring me.”

“I never thought I’d be able to love someone the way I love you, but then you walked into my life and...well you saw me naked…” he chuckled causing the tension to drain from Mickey’s face, “And I don’t think my life would ever be the same again without you. You complete me Mickey...as gay as that fucking sounds, it’s true and I was wondering…” Ian pulled the box from his pocket dropping to one knee as he popped it open. He looked up into wide blue eyes and gulped, “Well, I was wondering...will you marry me Mickey Milkovich?”

The word that left Mickey’s lips and the tear that leaked from the corner of his eyes had Ian’s breath catching in his throat and a blackhole swirling in his stomach. 

“No.”


	30. Ask Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’d later wake to find the purple and pink blotches that tattooed their chests and thighs, the mess of their clothing adorning the room and the gleaming rings on their left hands would send a much more satisfactory chill down their spines that a former two just couldn’t do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You see? I'm not entirely evil, I didn't make you wait very long for this update.
> 
> OMG THIS IS THE LAST ONE! AHH, while it felt like I started this fic a long time ago, it still also feels like just yesterday. Thank you for everyone that has stuck around with me even when I took long to update. To the ones joining in to read it as a whole, thank you for sticking it out 30 chapters. I hope everyone of you have enjoyed this fic as much as I have writing it and being able to bring these different yet similar versions of Ian and Mickey alive. 
> 
> I have other stuff I am working on and I hope you all will join me when I start those too.
> 
> thank you for reading, Cheers to Ian and Mickey and may this fic be a light during this dark time right now. Love you all. Keep safe 
> 
> PS i was going to name this chapter the Ball's In Your Court but i changed my mind lol just a fun fact.

_ Four years later _

“Ready whenever you are, Doctor.” His crystal blue eyes flitted across the private operating room, the contractors had only completed a month ago. This was it, his first surgery in his own private clinic. He’d always felt content with the life he had at the hospital never realizing he could have this. Now he’s living a dream he hadn’t realized he wanted. He took one deep breath in, listening to the constant beeping of the heart monitor.

“Jackie, can you turn the television on? It’s too fucking quiet in here.”

Jackie, who was sitting at the head of the patient, grabbed the remote flicking on the television that was mounted on the furthest wall of the operating room. The television roared to life on ESPN as a familiar redhead stood at a podium, light stubble dusting his face as he spoke.

“It is not with sadness, or regret, but pride that I officially announce the end of my career in professional basketball. This game has been a saviour for me, and it always will be but my health comes first and foremost. I had a good run, and I want to end it on a high note.” Ian Gallagher was smiling that infectious smile that would warm Mickey’s insides whenever he saw it 

“Is this okay?” Jackie asks.

Mickey lips quirk up beneath his surgical mask before he nods, “This is fine.” He may not be beside Ian, but it doesn't change how proud he is of him, “Scalpel.”

***

_ Five Years Later. _

His eyes were trained on the clipboard he held in his hand as he meticulously mapped strategic game plan for his training session tomorrow, feeling deep in a trance as the rhythmic bouncing of the basketballs echoed around the gym. 

The gymnasium still smelled the same, stuffed up with a tinge of sweat and too much disinfectant. But it would always be a home to him, serving to act as a place of solitude even in its mass hysteria. “Yo, Coach!”

Ian looked up to see one of the newer drafts running toward him with sweat leaking down his face, “Your husband and kid are here.” 

“Thank you, Patterson,” he turned his attention to the rest of the team, “we can call it a day there guys. Go on, shower up. Remember to get rest and do not go out partying.” The younger men of the Bulls’ youth basketball team mumbled their pleasantries before running to the locker rooms. 

Ian looked up locking eyes with the man he woke up to every morning for the last five years.

***

_ Five years earlier  _

_ “Well, I was wondering...will you marry me Mickey Milkovich?” _

_ _

_ The word that left Mickey’s lips and the tear that leaked from the corner of his eyes had Ian’s breath catching in his throat and a blackhole swirling in his stomach.  _

_ _

_ “No.” _

_ “No?” Ian immediately pushed off his feet as Mickey walked by him and into the bedroom. The redhead felt his heart climb up his throat as he watched Mickey just walk away like it was absolutely nothing.  _

_ Mickey came back out of the bedroom a couple seconds later, “No.” _

_ “No?” Ian asks again with a stammer and tears in his eyes.  _

_ “No.” Mickey said more indignantly. _

_ Ian looked at him with a furrowed brow as he still held the ring in his hand. “You’re confusing the fuck out of me Mickey. You don’t want to marry me? Then what the fuck was all that talk about you got me last night and I don’t have to worry about that shit? Were you just fucking with my head?!” Ian’s voice was getting louder.  _

_ Mickey scratches his brow as a little bubble of nervous laughter left his lips, causing Ian to feel all the more hurt that Mickey was laughing. “You really don’t want to marry me?” Ian asks in a softer voice. _

_ “No. No not no, fuck! Yes I do want to marry you Ian but...” Mickey sighed as he placed a box onto the dining table with dramatic force, “I want to marry you so fucking bad. I bought this yesterday when Fiona and I went out to buy furniture.” Ian looked at Mickey quizzically as he reached for the box sitting on the table and flipped the lid open. There was a thin, a little thicker than the one he’d bought, gold band with a thinner line of white gold around the center.  _

_ “I said no, because I was going to ask you. I wanted to be the one to ask.” _

_ Ian grabbed Mickey by the neck pulling him and crashing their lips together feeling the way Mickey relaxed into his touch. He pulled back moments after the kiss, “Ask me.”  _

_ “Well it makes no fucking sense to now,” Mickey grumbled. _

_ “Mickey, ask me.” Ian demanded.  _

_ “Fine.” He sighed dramatically making Ian chuckle, “Ian Gallagher, will you marry me?” _

_ “Yes,” Ian kissed him again threading his fingers through Mickey’s black hair, “Mickey? Will you marry me?” Ian mumbled against his lips holding him tightly to his body. _

_ “Fuck Yes.” _

***

_ Everything had gone as planned. It wasn’t overly extravagant but nice enough. There had been flowers that Mickey and Ian had picked out that “brought the whole place together” exactly how Fiona said they would. The ceremony wasn’t small but it wasn’t a big ordeal either, with just Ian’s family, his teammates, Mickey’s sister and best friend and a few friends they’d made over the year.  _

_ They didn’t write their own vows, because the traditional ones were “fucking spot on” according to Mickey. All in all, they both couldn’t have asked for it to go any better. They’d left the reception with their loved ones bidding them well and made their way to the hotel room Ian had rented because “a honeymoon is supposed to be different from every other day.” _

_ The champagne sitting in the ice bucket was popped and the chocolates devoured before every last piece of clothing was shed and Ian and Mickey had fallen into the soft Egyptian cotton sheets.  _

_ It was a night that neither was hardly aware of anything other than their partner, with soft skin caressing and wet kisses being pressed over their bodies. It was a night of whispered promises that they’d said before but somehow meant more now. Every whispered name and gasp sent chills down Ian’s spine and made goosebumps decorate Mickey’s skin.  _

_ They, for a lack or a better term, became one. And with every second that passed Ian could feel himself falling deeper into the abyss that was his love for Mickey. Neither is sure just how long they’d writhed and kissed at each other but by the time morning light had broken through the clouds and permeated the floor to ceiling windows, both men would groan and cuddle closer to the other while they felt the repercussions of the night before deep within their muscles and bones. They’d later wake to find the purple and pink blotches that tattooed their chests and thighs, the mess of their clothing adorning the room and the gleaming rings on their left hands would send a much more satisfactory chill down their spines that a former two just couldn’t do.  _

***

“Patterson!” Ian called after the young player, “that’s not my kid.”

“She sure looks like it.” The dark skinned boy grinned tilting his head to the doorway. Ian looked over locking eyes with the bluest blues he’d ever seen. Mickey had a grin splitting his lips as one hand held a jumbo Gatorade and the other dangled at his side where he held Franny’s hand. The little girl’s hair was a curly mess indicating that her Uncle Mickey had tried to comb it. 

Ian grabbed his bag off the gymnasium seat and shoved his belongings into it as he crossed the court. Mickey’s hair was slightly longer now, with the sides cut lower, it was all swept back with one lock falling into his face. He was still wearing his navy blue scrubs with his logo embroidered on the left breast. “Hey, gorgeous.” Ian cupped Mickey’s cheek and dipped his head to slot his lips with his husband’s while he took the Gatorade being shoved at him.

“Don’t call me that,” Mickey grumbled when Ian finally came up for air. 

“Aunty Fiona says Uncle Mickey doesn’t like compinents. She says he’s allergic.” 

Ian chuckled kneeling down, “Compliments,” he sounded, “And Aunty Fiona is correct.” 

“No she’s not.” Mickey grumbled as Ian picked his niece up and smothered her with a bear hug and a dozen kisses.

“Come one firecrotch we gotta go before your sister chops our nuts off.” Ian set Franny down on the floor again taking her hand in his own. 

They head out of the gym stopping briefly for Ian to talk to Coach Platt before Mickey had to haul him out and to the car. “We can’t be late. Debbie will literally chop my nuts off and I’m quite content with where they are.” Mickey says as he shuts the door where he’d just buckled Franny in and is heading to the driver’s seat of the car. 

“Okay, let’s go.” 

Ian’s fidgety as he sits in the front seat while they stop in traffic, “Are you excited to find out if it’s a boy or girl?” Mickey asks as he catches Ian staring at the two week old sonogram that was in the sun-visor. 

“Yeah,” Ian grins, relaxing a bit, “You?”

“As long as the kid is healthy I’m good.” 

Ian smiles sweetly and adoringly at Mickey, “Either way, I’m sure he or she is gonna be smart just like their dad.” He cups the back of Mickey’s head and runs his fingers through the black hair there. 

“Maybe, or maybe they’ll be kick ass at basketball, who knows.”

Ian laughed wholeheartedly at that, “The ball’s in your court for this one buddy because I doubt Debbie can even dribble a ball.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you So much for Reading ♥️ 
> 
> Thank you for sticking it out with me, I really appreciate that. I hope this fic was something that kept you occupied, comforted you and entertained you from Summer, through the fall and winter and now this quarantine. I hope it made you smile and that you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing it. 
> 
> What was your favourite parts? Or what moment stood out to you the most?


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